


Story Book Ending

by someofthissomeofthat11011



Category: Simonverse | Creekwood Series - Becky Albertalli
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:41:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28596372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someofthissomeofthat11011/pseuds/someofthissomeofthat11011
Summary: LOVE CREEKWOOD SPOILERS. My take on what happens after Love, Creekwood ends.
Relationships: Bram Greenfeld & Simon Spier, Bram Greenfeld/Simon Spier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	Story Book Ending

**Author's Note:**

> I really don’t know how it happens, but every time I try to write a cute, short little fic it turns into something like this that clocks in at 60 pages. I hope ya’ll like long stories because I’m apparently incapable of writing anything else.

Within minutes of pressing send on the email, my phone is ringing. I don’t need to look to know it’s Bram.

My heart is pounding as I answer it. I’m terrified that I may have overstepped, made him too uncomfortable, or something else that even the most creative parts of my brain cannot fathom. Maybe this is the point where he realizes that we want different things; maybe the growing old together jokes have been just that… jokes. It makes me feel like I’m gonna throw up. I can barely wrap my head around a few days without seeing him and even then, I get to call him and FaceTime. But an entire lifetime? The idea makes my heart feel like it’s drowning.

“Hey,” I say when I answer. My voice has barely any volume.

“Hey,” Bram answers. His voice sounds like it’s made of honey. I don’t even know what that means, but it feels really freaking accurate. I close my eyes and can feel myself shaking. I literally don’t think I’ve ever been so scared of a conversation with Bram before.

There’s a long silence. I don’t think either of us knows what to say. I watch as the timer for the phone call passes five minutes. Five minutes of silence as both of us try to figure out what to say. Maybe it’s only five minutes, but the anticipation makes it feel like five hours.

This is ridiculous. What can we possibly say over the phone that wasn’t in that email? This may be a life-changing conversation. I put some of my cards on the table, but he deserves for me to put all of my cards on the table. And he needs to do the same. And then we need to make a decision. But we can’t put all of our cards on a table if we can’t see that freaking imaginary table.

“Do you feel like this shouldn’t happen over the phone?” I ask.

“Honestly? Yeah,” he admits. “But it’s not our weekend.”

“I don’t care,” I tell him seriously. I’m putting on my socks and shoes. I’m a complete mess right now in my holey sweatpants, my oversized t-shirt with a stain from God knows what, and my splotchy face, but I couldn’t care less. “I’m driving to you now. I don’t want to wait.”

I expect him to tell me not to come or to tell me to be reasonable. He doesn’t do that. Instead, he says, “okay.” It’s a sign of how much he needs to talk to me that he’s not arguing about me driving into Manhattan in the middle of the night. Thank God my mom let me bring my car to school. Bram doesn’t like the idea of me driving in Manhattan… neither does my mom… or my dad… or anyone I know, really. Because I love Bram, even when he’s being ridiculously dramatic about my driving, I usually take the train in to see him. This is going to be the first time I’m driving into the city since I picked him up at the airport and drove him to school in August.

There’s very little traffic at midnight, and I make the trip in just over an hour and a half. This trip took like four hours last time (screw rush hour). Bram’s on the other end of my phone, but aside from random traffic updates, we don’t talk. He’s waiting outside when I pull up outside his building and he jumps in my car, so I won’t have to walk from the overnight parking garage to his dorm by myself. BECAUSE HE’S A FREAKING GENTLEMAN.

When I get out of my car, I just kind of cling to him for a minute. We must be quite the sight, but the few stragglers coming in and out of the parking garage are in various stages of sleep-deprived zombie or overly drunk misfit, so they don’t even seem to notice us. I know that I need to let go of him, and we need to go talk. I’m just terrified. I don’t think he’d be holding me like this if he was planning on breaking up with me, but I also don’t know if he’s on board with NYU. The idea of three more years of this makes me feel like I’m suffocating.

I don’t know who I am without him anymore. In a lot of ways, Bram helped me construct myself. The support he showed in our emails when we were two anonymous, closeted dumbasses, the bravery he showed when I was outed, and all the love we’ve shared since. It all shaped who I am today.

“Come on,” he whispers. He withdraws from the hug; as if he can’t bear to lose contact, he securely wraps one of his arms around my waist, and we walk back to his dorm room.

Once we’re inside, sitting side by side on his bed, the silence continues. I feel so overwhelmed. It’s bubbling up in me. I don’t even realize I’m crying until he asks me about it. “What’s wrong?” He brings his hand up to my cheek and, with the pad of his thumb, wipes away a tear.

“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “I’m just feeling so many things. I know we have to talk about this and figure things out, but… I miss you so freaking much all the time, and I don’t know what’s about to happen.”

“I miss you too. There aren’t even words,” he tells me. “What do you think I’m going to say? That New York isn’t big enough for the two of us? Simon, with you? There’s no space that isn’t big enough. I wish we had smaller spaces. I wish we could inhabit the same space. Always.”

It’s impossible to doubt him, and I guess all thoughts of talking go out the window as he kisses me.

Eh. We can talk later.

Thank God he doesn’t have a roommate.

I awake well-rested. I feel like it’s the first time I’ve really slept since Bram left my dorm room a week ago. I’m snuggled into his side and he has his arms wrapped around me as if he’s worried that I’ll escape. There’s no risk of that. If anything, I think I hold him just a little tighter.

He wakes up a few minutes later, and I love the drowsy smile on his face. “You’re really here. I started to think it was all a dream.” He kisses the side of my cheek.

“Nope. I’m here,” I assure him. I roll a little, so I’m hovering over him. I give him a real kiss.

It takes all of my self-control to pry myself away from him. I know if we don’t talk now, then we’ll make out, which will just lead to some other things, and then all of my resolve will be depleted. Then, we’ll spend the rest of the weekend in his bed… wait, why am I fighting this?

Fortunately, as my will is crumbling, Bram apparently finds his. “So, you applied to NYU,” he says slowly.

I look at him nervously and nod. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before I applied, but I didn’t know how you’d feel about this.”

“Are you kidding?” he asks. “I couldn’t be happier.”

“Really?” I study him and he doesn’t look unhappy, but he also doesn’t look happy. He just kind of looks… I don’t know. Peaceful, I guess?

“Really,” he promises. “I love you so fucking much. Like, God, Simon. Do you even know what you do to me? I used to be this quiet, grammar nerd kid who was terrified of myself. Now, I think sentence fragments are a turn on, and the only thing that terrifies me is losing you. If you get into NYU, we’ll be living in the same borough! We’ll be a long walk away from each other. We could live together if we wanted to. Can you imagine? Us in a little apartment in New York. Every day, waking up like this. But…”

Of course. There’s a freaking but. “But?” I press.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asks. “I don’t want you to do this and then regret it for the rest of our lives.”

I look down at his bed. I can’t say what I need to say if I can see his face. “Here’s the thing,” I say quietly. “You’re it for me, Bram. Or, I at least hope you are. Leah asked me if I could see myself having sex with you for seventy years and changing diapers and something about taxes. And I can. You’re my happily ever after, and I want everything with you. I want the growing old and gray together, the having babies and changing their nasty diapers, the house or apartment where we’ll live with our family, and God knows what else. Though, I fully expect more than seventy years of sex, so maybe start eating in the freaking dining hall, okay? Keep yourself healthy? You’re it. You are who I want to spend my future with. I’m not proposing to you tonight, but I want you to know that’s on the table for me… and I needed you to know all of that. I will never regret anything that I do for you or for us.”

I’m not looking at him, so I’m surprised when I hear this weird choked sob from him. I look up at him and he looks like he’s about to cry. I don’t think. I just wrap my arms around him. He bunches my shirt in his fists and is shaking in my embrace. Is he angry? Is that why he’s shaking? “It’s okay,” I say soothingly. “I’m so freaking sorry if I upset you.”

“I’m not upset,” he says. He pulls back just a little and puts his hands on either side of my hip. There are freaking tears in his eyes, so I sincerely doubt that. “Simon Irvin Spier.” He says my name like it’s a blessing. “I want all of that stuff with you. I’m not ready to get engaged either, but when I think of my future, I think of you and all the things that we’ll do together. I’m so ridiculously in love with you, and right now, I can’t keep that in.”

“What if I don’t get into NYU?” I ask in a small voice.

“You will,” he says confidently.

“But what if I don’t?” I repeat.

He climbs off his bed and kneels in front of me. My heart starts hammering. I could have sworn he just said he isn’t ready to get engaged. Did I imagine that?

Nope. I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding as he reaches under his bed. He grabs a box and rejoins me on my bed. “When my dad remarried, he told me that when he started dating my stepmom, he wrote her a note. He knew after their first date that he wanted to marry her, so this note was like a promise to her. He actually read it out loud as part of their vows.”

“Okay?” I say uncertainly.

He looks down at his box. “In this box is a note I wrote for you after the winter carnival,” he explains. “A note that, even then, I hoped I would read to you one day at our wedding. That day will come whether we spend the next three years living in New York together, or if we spend the next three years practically living on trains to go back and forth to see each other.” Bram passes me a tissue. I don’t even want to know what I look like. “We will make this work. If you are still in Philly next year, I’ll figure out my schedule so I have Mondays or Fridays off, and I’ll come visit you every weekend that you can’t come to me. I don’t care what I might miss here. I’m done missing you.” He has this really serious look on his face, and I suddenly get why he’s crying because I don’t think I can physically contain all the things I’m feeling right now. I feel like I’m literally overflowing with emotion.

“I love you,” I remind him.

“I love you too,” he promises.

We don’t really talk the rest of the weekend. I expect leaving him to be so much easier now that I know we’re okay, and I know that I’m going to see him in a week instead of two or three, but it almost hurts more. I’m crying the entire way to the parking garage and HE’S STILL WITH ME! We kiss for a long time outside of my car (I guess he’s right and public kissing IS apparently a thing we do now).

“Call me to let me know you got back safe,” he orders.

“It’s funny that you think I’m going to get all the way to Philly without calling you,” I tell him. Seriously. This is borderline obsessive but loving him any less is like trying to hold my breath for a decade; it’s not possible.

He kisses me one more time, then steps aside so I can climb into my car. I drive him back to his dorm, and one kiss later, he’s out of my car. My heart feels empty as I drive away.

There’s only a month and a half until the semester ends, but it’s seriously the longest freaking month and a half of my life. By the time I take my last final, I’m so ready for a whole summer with Bram, unobstructed by long train rides and studying.

It’s weird to be in the same city, but to be sleeping apart. I feel like it’s high school all over again with the sneaking around. We try to spend as much time away from our parents as possible… okay, really, it’s just my parents. His mom is totally quiet and gives us our space, but it feels like my parents constantly make excuses to stop by my room. It doesn’t help that both my mom and my dad have different schedules over the summer; it feels like they’re home more than they are working.

We make it work though; we’re in too much of a euphoric haze to be too bothered by my parents, and we know the only reason they are so overbearing is because they’ve missed us so much. The only thing that’s weighing on both of us is NYU. Two weeks after the semester ended and I have yet to hear from them. It’s only making me more anxious.

Bram’s over at my house the day I get the email. We’re making out on my bed and my door is firmly shut (this was a battle I picked over winter break and my parents begrudgingly agreed that, as an adult, I have a right to privacy). When we’re taking a break from making out, I check my phone.

I freeze as I read through the email. “What’s wrong?” Bram asks.

“I got in,” I say. I can hardly believe the words. I reread the email, expecting their decision to change. But it’s the same. Simon Spier. Congratulations. Admissions package is in the mail. So much time had passed without me hearing from them, I’d convinced myself I hadn’t gotten in.

“You… you got in?” Bram confirms.

God, I feel like I might cry. I can’t speak because I’m pretty sure only a sob would come out. Instead, I nod. And then he’s kissing me. I don’t know how long he kisses me before he rests his forehead against mine. “You’re going to NYU.” His words sit between the two of us. I thought I’d feel sad to be leaving Haverford (I did A LOT of crying towards the end of the semester as I said goodbye, not knowing if I’d be back), and I’m sure those feelings will come, but I’m too unbelievably happy right now to think about that.

It’s happening. It’s really happening. All the stress of the last year seems to evaporate with the knowledge that there won’t be another like it.

“We’re going to be in Manhattan together,” I whisper.

He nods. I think he feels the same way I do. We’re practically going to be living together when the school year starts. We’re going to be together for my birthday and our anniversary and Valentine’s Day and hell, I’m even excited to celebrate Earth Day or President’s Day or Talk Like a Pirate Day with him. The important thing is we will see each other all of those days. We will get to celebrate all of our accomplishments together, I’ll be able to attend all of Bram’s soccer games, we’ll be able to watch movies IRL and not over FaceTime. We'll be able to do all the cheesy, touristy things we didn’t do because we had more important things to do with the little time we had during our visits. We don’t have to worry about elderly mule pulled trains, kicking out Kellan (though let’s be real – he didn’t mind the extra time with his boyfriend), schedules that just refuse to cooperate, or invasive parents.

The moment I think about my parents, it’s like a bucket of cold water is poured over me. I sit up straight, my mind buzzing.

“Simon?” he asks.

“I have to tell my parents,” I whisper. I didn’t even tell them that I applied. The only person that knows is Bram, and I only told him because he needed to be part of that decision. I worried that if I told a ton of people and then didn’t get in, the rejection would be that much worse.

It's the last thing I want to do; I don't want to tear myself away from Bram, but they also need to know. 

“Go,” he urges. He kisses me quickly. “Go tell them, and then we need to go out and celebrate!”

I climb to my feet. “I’ll be back up in a little bit,” I assure him. When I get to the door, I turn back to him. “Please don’t clean my room.”

He gets this disgruntled look on his face and looks away from me. He doesn’t say he won’t, so I’m pretty sure I’m going to come back to a completely different room. I think he would have done the same in my dorm room, but his attention was occupied by other things every time he visited.

I descend the stairs, and my nerves start to get to me. I know they’re going to be upset that I didn’t tell them sooner. Especially since they've been very sensitive about being left out of stuff since I went away to college; I feel like they went through withdrawal when I was away. I find my mom in the family room. “Where’s dad?” I ask her.

“He’s out back.” She doesn’t look up from the book she's reading; it kind of works out for me because I’m a noticeable mess right now.

I go to our backyard where my dad is playing fetch with Bieber. “Hey, could you come in for a minute?” I ask. “I need to talk to you and mom about something.”

“I’ll be right in,” he promises. He waits for Bieber to run back, grabs the tennis ball from his mouth, and then comes in. Poor Bieber looks so sad, like we just canceled doggie Christmas or something.

My dad follows me to the family room. He sits down on the rocking chair in the corner. I sit down in the armchair near my mom and Bieber rests his head on my lap. He makes me feel about 10000% calmer.

“What’s up?” my dad asks. My mom puts her clipboard aside and looks between the two of us.

“I need to talk to you about something,” I say. I take a deep breath. “This last year… has been really hard for me. I knew it was going to be hard to be 117 and ½ miles away from Bram, but we had no idea it would be this hard.” I pet Bieber’s head. He nozzles up into my hand. “So, I applied to transfer to NYU a couple of months ago, and I just found out today… I got in.”

I expect them to be upset but specifically about the fact that I didn’t tell them. I’m floored when they look at each other, and the next words out of my mom’s mouth are, “I don’t think it’s a good idea to give up your dream school so that you’re closer to your boyfriend. You love Haverford.”

“What?” I ask incredulously.

“It’s just… he’s just a small part of your world,” my mom says. So wrong. So freaking wrong. I think it’s possibly the most wrong she can be about something. “And you already finished one year.” Yeah, one long-ass, miserable year. “And he’s just a boyfriend.” WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?

I need to know, so I ask, “what does that even mean? Just a boyfriend.”

“It means you’re young,” my dad suggests. “This is the time to do what you want and to live your life for yourself.”

“What I want,” I say slowly. “Is to live my life closer to Bram.”

“I don’t know,” my mom sighs. “Honey, we know you love Bram and we know that the two of you have been through a lot together, but you’re so young.”

“I’m nineteen. I’m not a little kid anymore.” I take a few deep breaths. “Look. I love Bram. I love him so freaking much. If someone asked you to live away from dad for four years, would you do it when you had the chance to be with him?”

“That’s different,” my mom points out. “We’re married. You’re not even engaged yet.”

“Is that what it would take?” I snap. It’s kind of getting to me that this is what they have a problem with. They’ve been so on board with Bram ever since we started dating (one could argue that they've been a little over the top with their enthusiasm), and they had no problem when my initial plan had been NYU. I can’t wrap my head around the fact that they’re not okay with this because of Bram. “Because I fully intend to marry Bram one day. I don’t want to get engaged yet. I want to wait until we’re out of college, but if that’s what it takes, I’ll go upstairs and pop the question right now. He’ll say yes.” I hear the words after I say them, and I’m pretty sure I’m the biggest idiot in the world and just ruined whatever credibility I have as an adult.

“Simon!” my mom exclaims incredulously.

“No, I know. I don’t want to get engaged yet, and he doesn’t either. It’s just… I’m so freaking miserable without him. We knew this was going to be hard, but it’s too much for me. I can’t enjoy myself at college knowing that he’s so far away. I feel like I half-ass everything – my friendships, my classes… everything.”

“Don’t you think it means something that you’re not sure if your relationship will survive this?” my mom probes.

“That’s not it.” I’m agitated enough that Bieber leaves. He’s probably going to go find Nora or Alice so he can be around someone that’s not angrily fidgeting. “I’m not worried about our relationship. That will survive. I will be just as in love with Bram from Philly, and he’ll be just as in love with me from New York.”

“Then what’s the problem?” she asks. “Why are you giving up Haverford.”

“Because if I don’t, I don’t know how much of me will survive this!” I don’t realize how true the words are until I say them. It makes my heart pound in my chest. I hear footsteps coming down the stairs, and I don’t know if it’s Nora, Alice, or Bram. I don’t turn to look. “I feel like I break a little bit more every time I have to say goodbye to him. I was constantly in this haze when I was at school where all I could think about was how much I missed him and how much it sucked when we weren't together. It's like that's all I was capable of feeling. It never got easier. There were days where I forgot to eat until Kellan dragged me to the dining hall and it was so freaking hard to wake up and go to class and do whatever the hell else I was supposed to do in my day. I would go somewhere but wouldn’t remember walking there or I’d be halfway through a homework assignment but couldn’t remember starting it. It’s freaking terrifying. Even when something good happened, I couldn't enjoy it because he wasn’t there to share that moment with me. The only time I felt alive was when Bram came to visit or when I went to see him. I know you’re going to say that it’s unhealthy, and I’m too dependent on him or whatever you have planned, but this is my reality. Bram was there for me when I didn’t know how to be myself. He saw me at my worst and helped build me up to my best. Who I am now? I’ve never known this person without him. He’s a huge part of my life and that part is always with him, even when we’re apart. I’m so tired of feeling like part of a person without him. I just need to feel whole again.”

I don’t know if everyone’s crying or if they just look like they’re crying because everything is blurry through my own tears. My mom hugs me, and as she shakes, I get confirmation that at least one other person is crying. She hugs me a little tighter than usual. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know how hard this has been on you,” she says quietly. “Honey, I want to say all those things. I want to say you’re too young and that it’s unhealthy to be this dependent on someone, but you clearly already know all of those things. If this is what will keep you safe, and if you’re really sure about him, then of course we’re on board with NYU.” She lets go of me and sits down on the coffee table. “There are some things we need to talk about.” Part of me thinks she’s about to have another sex talk which, no offense to her, is essentially useless at this point. Instead, she says, “I worry about some of the things you said.”

“Yeah. Dependent and unhealthy. We already went over this,” I tell her.

She shakes her head. “Simon, you talked about not feeling alive without Bram, how you wouldn’t eat, and how you had trouble getting out of bed. If something happened to Bram, would you be okay?” she asks.

I don’t even want to think about that. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Because if your answer to that is no; if you feel like you wouldn’t be able to keep yourself safe if he wasn’t in your life, then I think we need to seriously consider…” she sighs and looks at my dad. I look at him for the first time, and he just has a deer-in-headlights look on his face as if he can’t follow everything that just happened. “I know you don’t like it when I do this, so I hope you believe me when I say I’m talking as your mother and not as a therapist. But I think we should consider finding someone for you to talk to.”

“You want me to talk to a therapist?” I ask her uncertainly.

She nods. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. You know we love Bram and we love that you love him. I think there’s something to be said for talking to someone about how hard this past year was for you. Really talking to someone about it. Someone that can maybe help you work through some of the depression and separation anxiety you experienced and work on ways to cope with that in the future. Because no one can be with their significant other 100% of the time. That’s the reality of life. What if he has to come back to Atlanta for a few weeks and you can’t go with him? Or vice versa. Would you be okay for those weeks? And heaven forbid something happened to him. What would you do?”

“This is ridiculous,” I say.

“Is it?” a soft voice comes from the entrance. I guess it was Bram that came down the stairs before.

“I don’t need to talk to a therapist,” I adamantly proclaim.

Bram purses his lips and turns to my mom. “Do you mind if I take Simon out for a bit?” he asks.

My parents don’t mind, and he ushers me out of my house. “What was that about?” I ask once I’m in his passenger seat.

“I agree with your mom,” he says simply.

“You… you what?” I feel like I’m not capable of comprehending what he’s saying.

“Look, I love you a lot, okay? And I want you to be happy. It’s really important to me that you’re happy. Whether we’re five miles, 117 and ½ miles, or 850 miles apart. I want you to be happy. Maybe…” He cuts himself off and turns his car on but makes no attempt to drive.

“What?” I ask him.

He lets out a shaky breath. “Maybe this is something we can do together.” He grips his steering wheel tight. “Your mom asked if you would be okay if something happened to me or even if you had to spend a couple of weeks without me, and it made me think about whether I’d be okay without you. I wouldn’t. I know I wouldn’t. This past year wasn’t just hard on you. I was miserable without you. I practically lived off of peanut butter toast because the thought of walking to the dining hall was too much for me. Playing soccer was the only time I felt in control of my life and once that was over? I couldn’t give anything my full attention. I love Ella and Miriam, but I was only about 60% present with them at any given point in time. I know we’re going to be living in the same city, but I still think maybe we need to work through what happened last year. We’re the two halves of that story, so maybe it makes sense to work through that together… but with a professional.”

“Like couples counseling?” I ask. It feels weird to me because I feel like we’re so solid.

“Not exactly. Just counseling as a couple? We’re not going to work on fixing our relationship, but we’ll work on ourselves,” he suggests.

“You really want us to do this?” I question.

“I want us to live a long, happy life together,” Bram says. “And I believe that this might be the way to do it.”

“Okay.”

“Really? Just like that?” He sounds surprised.

“If this is what you want to do, I’m on board. Of course, I’m on board,” I promise him.

He turns and kisses me. We don’t stop until he accidentally elbows his horn, and we realize that my parents are undoubtedly going to figure out that we never got out of the driveway.

“Do you want to go somewhere or go back inside?” he asks.

“If we go back inside, we’re going to have to talk about this some more. We can go to your house… and inhabit the same spaces,” I suggest with a wink.

Summer goes by in the blink of an eye. Because I’m transferring, I have to go to a special transfer orientation that starts a full week before Bram needs to be back. In those few days, I realize Bram has a point. I feel like I can’t breathe. I constantly have to remind myself that I’m going to see him soon and it’s not like last year where we went weeks without seeing each other.

Therapy ends up being the best thing we do for ourselves. After two failed attempts with therapists that were NOT a good fit for us (one thought that the best thing for us would be a clean break and we should quit each other “cold turkey”; SHE ACTUALLY SAID THAT), we decided to give it one more try. We both agreed that if it didn’t work out again, we could tell my mom that we really put an effort into finding someone.

We never had to have that conversation because our third therapist was Carrie. Carrie is this middle-aged woman who is literally the perfect human being (I’m pretty sure she is exactly like what a love child created from Bram’s and my DNA would act like and who doesn’t mind when we… okay, when I say weird stuff like that).

Despite the fact that we are not in couples counseling and are just doing counseling-as-a-couple (though, who are we kidding?), I feel like our relationship grows a lot. We have this whole new world of mutual accountability to delve into. Carrie mostly has us work on these mindfulness activities so we can practice being fully present even when we’re not together. And they really work, which is surprising.

I guess it’s not actually surprising because this is her job, but I thought every therapist was like my mom and dealt with crisis skills. Or maybe I don’t actually know what my mom is like with her clients. With Carrie though, it’s kind of like having an hour-long conversation with a friend that knows how to challenge us just enough to inspire growth but not so much to make us shut down.

Somewhere in the midst of the homework she gave us (who knew therapy would be like taking a class?), the exercises we practiced, and the small parts of her life that she welcomed us into, therapy started to work. We got to a point where we stopped being defensive about our problems and started actually working through them. And we quickly realized that what we had thought was the perfect relationship had been incredibly unhealthy. Somehow, counseling-as-a-couple really did turn into couples counseling. Who knew couples counseling wasn’t just for people that have really broken relationships?

Carrie is so real with us. Like, she says things like, ‘it makes sense that when you find someone that you connect with, you want to spend all your time connecting’ (Bram and I could not look each other in the eye when she said that), and she asks things like ‘do you understand why your codependency is a problem? Or do I have to explain to you why it is?’ Sometimes we hate her, but we also love her. The things she’s taught us and encouraged us to do have made our relationship so much stronger.

I’m not going to say that it’s easy when Bram and I are apart, but it’s not like it was our freshman year. I feel like I’m able to enjoy myself when we’re not together. When Bram goes home early for Caleb’s birthday, when I go to Connecticut because Theo asks me to be part of his proposal(!), when life inevitably separates us for periods of time, we don’t just suffer; we live.

That’s why I’m sitting in her office sobbing right now. Because Bram and I graduated and we’re moving when our lease is up at the end of May. We both agreed that we’re ready to take what she taught us and apply it to the real world without her. But this sucks so freaking much. Like, I know Carrie’s not our friend and that she’s our therapist, but it doesn’t feel that way. It feels like we’re some hybrid of the two.

“This isn’t fair,” I grumble. “You taught us how to be okay without each other, but not without you.” It’s not true and all three of us know it.

“What Simon means to say is thank you,” Bram tells her. He’s crying too but is holding himself together much better than I am. “We didn’t know how much we had to learn, and without your patience and understanding, I don’t think we’d have gotten where we are. You’ve made us better, and you’ve touched our lives forever.” I’m sobbing all over again because that is freaking beautiful.

Even Carrie is getting a little choked up. “Boys,” she says, her voice breaks on the word. “Over the last three and a half years, you have made it so easy to work with you. You absorbed everything I told you and practiced every skill I suggested, even if it made you uncomfortable. Your openness, honesty, and dedication are why you’re where you are today.” She looks down at her clipboard. “As a therapist, this is the hardest part for me. I’ve done my job and you’re ready to use these skills on your own, but it’s bittersweet. Part of me wants to find a reason to keep you in this office, but I know you’re ready. I think back to when we started together. Simon, when you walked into my office, I didn’t think this was going to work. You sat down in the exact spot you’re sitting in now while Bram stood next you. And you said, ‘my mother thinks I need therapy’. I immediately pegged you as someone that would come a few times and then would quit. And Bram, you were so quiet. I didn’t think that either of you would open up to me in a way that would allow us to work together. I also had no idea what not-couples-counseling-but-counseling-as-a-couple would look like. I’m so happy that I was wrong and that we had this opportunity to grow and learn together. I am grateful to have had clients like you; clients that remind me not to judge a book by its first impression and who teach me in return. You prove to everyone what a little hard work can do. I am so proud of both of you. I will miss you both, but I know that you’ll go out into this world and you’ll do such great things.”

Bram grabs a tissue. “We got you something,” Bram says quietly.

“Well… we made you something,” I correct. I reach into my bag and pull out the frame. “Do you remember when you had us dabble with poetry?”

It had been about a year after we’d started working with her. I was going home because my parents were renewing their wedding vows, and Bram’s spring break was different than mine, so he couldn’t go with me. Carrie suggested we write poems to each other and exchange them when I got back. That way, we could do something meaningful with our time apart instead of wallow. We’d both been surprised when it actually kind of worked. I mean, being apart was still horrible, but we got really competitive about the assignment. Bram turned his poems into a freaking scrapbook, and I teamed up with Leah to make his into comic strips. The poems were cheesy and nauseating and the greatest gifts we’ve ever exchanged. It was the first time that I felt like it was worth it to have spent some time apart.

We still do something like this every time we’re apart. Not poems, but something that we can work on during those trips.

Carrie nods. “Of course.”

“That was the first time something worked for us,” Bram explains. “When I went home because my dad had another baby and when Simon’s parents flew him in for his sister’s graduation; nothing fully distracted us, but you gave us an outlet that didn’t allow us to get the immediate reinforcement of how much we missed each other.” It turns out, it’s surprisingly easy to spiral when you’re going back and forth about how much it sucks that you’re apart.

“To commemorate that, we… wrote you a poem,” I admit. I’m suddenly feeling really self-conscious. “It doesn’t rhyme or anything, and it’s not the greatest, but we wanted to do something special.”

It had actually taken us over a week of arguing to settle on what we wanted to say.

I pass Carrie the picture frame and she reads it aloud.

_ Darkness _

_ Numbness _

_ Loneliness _

_ Nothing else _

_ Unending night _

_ But then there was you _

_ A light in our darkness _

_ Your patience and guidance _

_ Turned our night into day _

_ We are strong _

_ And we blame you _

_ Thank you _

Carrie lets out a choked sob. “I love it. Can I hug you two?”

I don’t answer. I just jump to my feet and allow her to hug me. Bram joins us after a moment.

When we leave, my heart feels heavy. I hug Bram tight in the lobby of the building before we leave. “You okay?” he asks.

I nod. “I’ll be fine. I’m just sad, but you were right; it was time.”

“Do you remember when we started with her?” he asks. “Did you ever think this was going to be the hard part of working with her?”

I shake my head. “Not in a million years,” I answer.

“Me neither,” he admits. “But you know what she would say right now?”

“If you’re going to tell me to count fucking lily pads,” I warn. It’s one of our mindfulness activities. When things get tough when we are apart, she recommended finding ten good things about where we are and putting them on mental lily pads. And then we count our lily pads (kind of like counting blessings but with a mental visual). It’s supposed to help us be mentally present. It sometimes works but not always.

He chuckles. “No. She’d say that pain sucks, but the one thing that makes it better…”

I look down and smile. “Is that even when we’re apart, we’re lucky to have someone to share it with,” I finish.

“What do you say that we go home, and I’ll make you forget all about how sad you are?” he suggests. He has this twinkle in his eyes. I freaking love that twinkle.

Three weeks later, I’m walking off the field after graduation. Even though I technically graduated in the winter, I got to walk at the spring graduation. It’s so surreal to think that once upon a time, I didn’t think I’d love it at NYU. Truly, the three and a half years I spent here have been the best of my life. I found my people here. It’s strange because I almost feel like that’s a betrayal of the people I left behind at Haverford (which Kellan tells me is ridiculous every time we FaceTime).

I’m looking around for my family or Bram when someone comes up behind me and wraps their arms around me.

I turn around in time for Bram to kiss my cheek. “Congratulations.” I get a real kiss from him. “One down, one to go.”

I smile at him; his graduation ceremony is in three days, which is kind of weird because he graduated a full year ago. NYU is holding a special graduation ceremony for the COVID class. “How does it feel to be dating a college graduate?” I tease.

He grins and kisses me again, so I’m guessing it feels really freaking good.

My family finds me then and we’re a flurry of hugging. Alice and Theo let go of each other exactly long enough to hug me and congratulate me. My parents keep saying that it’s normal after getting engaged and that it will wear off once they get married in three months. I guess I’ll find out soon.

And then freaking Kellan pops up. And I’m a crying, blubbering mess. Because what else is there to do?

“How come you weren’t this excited to see me?” Bram asks, pretending to be wounded.

I let him tease me because when he sees Garrett in a few days (it’s a surprise), he’s going to lose his shit and boy, is he going to hear it from me.

“I had no idea you were coming!” I tell him.

“I swore Bram to secrecy,” he explains with a big, goofy smile.

I turn to Bram. “You knew?”

He’s just smiling smugly like he’s the master of surprises. Just wait, Bram. Just wait.

We walk around the city for a while and then go out to dinner. I guess my parents were in on the whole Kellan thing because they don’t have to adjust their reservation. It’s so nice and amazing. Bram’s mom joins us for dinner. His dad would be here, but his flight won’t be in until the day before Bram’s graduation (he opted for the later flight because apparently traveling with an almost six-year-old and a two and a half year-old isn’t the most fun you can have in life).

Kellan has to leave early the next morning to get back for Grover’s graduation. Grover just finished his five-year joint Bachelors & Masters track program.

Having my family in New York is surreal. I’m so used to them dominating spaces, but I don’t think they ever fully got used to the hustle and bustle of New York.

They’re staying through Bram’s graduation, so we have two full days to entertain them in New York… or for them to entertain New York. It really depends on how you see it.

My dad walking through the city and saying, “you don’t see that in Atlanta” was really funny the first five times; not so funny the last five-thousand.

We manage those few days, and finally, it’s the day of Bram’s graduation.

Bram wakes me up as he’s getting ready to leave. “Si, don’t forget. You need to meet your parents for breakfast,” he reminds me.

I roll over so my back is towards him. “Five minutes,” I plead. I’m so freaking tired. After Bram went to sleep, I had to sneak out of bed to let Garrett into our roommate’s bedroom (don’t worry – he already moved out). And then I couldn’t get back to sleep because I got so excited for today.

He shakes me. “You said you’d meet them at 9. It’s almost 9. You don’t have five minutes.” He shakes me again. “Come on!”

He leans down and kisses my cheek. I open my eyes and look up at him. “That’s not going to wake me up.”

He rolls his eyes at me. “I’ll see you after the ceremony.”

I sit up in bed. “Really? Are you really about to walk out on me?” I ask. I do my best to look upset.

He walks out of our bedroom. “I made coffee,” he calls.

I groan. I thought waking up would be easier as I got older, but here I am at twenty-three and it’s just as hard as it’s always been.

I force myself out of bed and to the bathroom. I scream as the curtain opens. In my haze, I’m sure it’s a thief or a murderer or a rat with opposable thumbs (weirder things have existed in the city). It’s none of those things; it’s Garrett.

“You okay?” Bram asks.

“Yeah,” I call. “I thought I saw a rat. It was just my shadow.”

I can hear Bram laughing. “What are you doing in here?” I whisper.

“I had to use the bathroom like an hour ago, but then Bram woke up and he’s been in and out of the kitchen,” Garrett whispers back. “I didn’t want him to see me.”

I sigh. “He’s leaving in like five minutes,” I tell him. Then something dawns on me. “Wait. Were you in here when he used the bathroom? Do you know how lucky you are that he showers at night?”

“Do you know how lucky you are that you weren’t in here when he used the bathroom?” Garrett retorts.

I bring my hand up to my forehead. What is even happening right now? “I don’t want to think about this. I’ll let you know when you’re clear to come out.” I press down on the flusher just to make it seem like I really used the bathroom.

“Good thinking, Spier.”

I roll my eyes as I walk out.

Bram’s sitting at our kitchen table. His gown is draped over his arm and he’s holding his cap. It makes me laugh every time I see it. He has, “They say senior year flies by; no one warned me it would Zoom by” and a couple of pictures from meetings with classmates, family, and friends over Zoom strategically placed on his cap. It’s much better than my Harry Potter graduation cap (though, I think “master has given Dobby a diploma” is timeless).

He hands me my mug. “I love you so much,” I say dramatically as I accept the coffee.

“I love you too.” He quickly kisses me. “See you later.”

I wait a full minute after he leaves to run to the bathroom. “Get out,” I snarl. Garrett gives me a concerned look. “I have to pee! Go!”

When I get to the kitchen, Garrett is sitting in the same spot that Bram had just been in. “What time is breakfast?” Garrett asks.

“10,” I answer. “I told Bram 9 so he would wake me up before he left.” I yawn and drink the coffee Bram made for me. He put it in a cheesy souvenir mug that has our faces on it from when we went to Hershey Park. Some of our stuff is packed up in boxes, but we left enough of our kitchen stuff to get through the next two weeks without ordering take-out every meal. I hadn’t been paying much attention when he was packing up our random assortment dishes, but I guess he decided to leave all of our ridiculous mugs out. “Give me, like, a minute to wake up and then we can head out.”

We make a pitstop and then head to meet my family. We’re running a little late, but they don’t complain. We’re still early for Bram’s graduation and his mom saved a bunch of seats. Caleb is practically bouncing in his seat when he sees me. “Simon!” he calls.

“Hey, buddy,” I say when I get close enough. Caleb hugs me. I ruffle his hair, and he smiles at me. “Did someone lose some teeth?” He nods vigorously. “Did the tooth fairy come?”

“He brought me five dollars,” Caleb explains excitedly. His face falls. “But he took my tooth.”

I can’t help but laugh. Someone tugs at my shirt and I look down to see Noah. “See-min, uppie.” To everyone’s credit, no one laughs at how he mispronounces my name. They are apparently way more mature than me because the first hundred times he called me it, I was practically hysterical. He holds up his arms, and I pick him up. I swear, this kid gets heavier every time I see him.

“Where’s my huggie?” I ask, pretending to be upset.

Noah buries his head in my shoulder. God, I love this kid. In a lot of ways, I was so young when Caleb was born. I feel like I let Bram take the reins with everything, but from the very beginning, Noah’s been different. I think it’s probably because when Noah was born, Caleb wanted absolutely nothing to do with me or Bram (‘no, no’ may as well have been his slogan), so we got a lot of time with him while Bram’s dad and stepmom chased Caleb around (literally – I think Caleb went straight from refusing to crawl to running and hasn’t stopped since).

Caleb has since warmed back up to us and we were assured that it was just a phase. I really hope Noah never goes through that phase. Noah wiggles to get down and pulls a book out of his toy bag. It’s this really beat up pop-up book that had long since lost the ability to pop anywhere. “Do you want me to read to you?”

Bram’s graduation ceremony flies by. I expected it to be as slow as mine, but it’s not. Maybe it’s because I have a toddler literally climbing on me. Who’s to say?

Once his ceremony is over, I look at Garrett. “Ten bucks says he cries,” I offer.

Garrett rolls his eyes. “I know he’s going to cry. I’m his best friend. He’s going to be so happy to see me, he’s not going to be able to keep it together,” he says smugly.

“I feel like you shouldn’t be this excited to make him cry,” I point out.

“Practice what you preach,” Garrett bites back.

He’s not wrong. We slowly exit the stadium and I spot Bram all the way at the edge of the crowd. I walk over to him and sneak up behind him. “Congrats,” I say excitedly and wrap my arms around him.

He turns around and I get to hug him properly. “I’m so freaking proud of you. I know it’s a year late, but it’s been true every day since you actually graduated.”

“Thanks. How does it feel to be dating a college graduate?” he asks with a mischievous smile.

I take a leaf out of his book and instead of answering, I kiss him. It’s kind of like the rest of the world melts away for a minute.

It’s a short-lived minute because then his mom finds us and she’s an inconsolable mess. I think it’s about more than the fact that her “baby has graduated and is all grown up”, but Bram doesn’t find it to be weird in the slightest.

I have to bite the inside of my lip when Garrett joins us, and BRAM DOESN’T NOTICE!

“What do you guys want to do to celebrate before dinner?” my dad asks.

“Oh, you know. I was thinking it might be nice to see more of the city,” Garrett suggests.

Except, Caleb chose that exact moment to run straight to Bram, so his attention is divided. It almost happens in slow motion. Bram puts Caleb down and turns. He makes his adorable, dopey surprised face as he stares at Garrett. For a second, it’s like he can’t believe his eyes.

And then he’s crying and hugging Garrett. They’re whispering about God knows what, so I turn to my dad. “I think we were actually going to the zoo. We thought Caleb and Noah would get a kick out of that,” I tell him.

We all end up going to the zoo and it is a lot of fun. There’s something for everyone to really enjoy and Noah’s gleeful shrieks have everyone in tears because we’re laughing so hard (he kind of sounds like a pterodactyl when he gets excited).

We’re at the zoo until it closes and then we’re just walking around until it’s time for our reservation. Bless Bram’s mom because as we’re walking there, she says, “I hope this place is okay. I tried to find somewhere where everyone would be able to eat and this place had really good reviews.”

When we walk up, Bram turns to me. “Do you remember when we came here?” he asks.

I pretend that I’m thinking about it. “Oh. This was our first date after I transferred, right?”

He nods. “We loved it here. Everything about this place was perfect. Do you remember that walkway?”

Do I remember that walkway? Pshah. Do people have lungs? Of course, I freaking remember the walkway. “The one over the pond, right? With all the koi? At some point tonight, we should take a walk down there.” I think I pull it off without arousing suspicion.

“Agreed,” he says.

Once we put in our orders, Garrett pretends he needs to use the bathroom.

“Maybe we should go take that walk now. That way we’ll be back before our food gets here,” I suggest.

“Anyone want to come?” Bram asks as he stands.

Nora pretends to be looking at the drink menu (I swear, I will never get used to the fact that my baby sister is legal), my parents make some excuse that I don’t hear, and Noah starts to throw everything within his reach, adequately providing an excuse for everyone else. “Just us,” I say with a shrug. I can’t tell if I’m acting normal because I forget what normal is.

I let Bram take the lead. He walks through the back door to the walkway. “Look at all these lights. Do you think they’re having some kind of event?” he asks. And he says I’m oblivious. He better freaking love those lights. It took Garrett and I over an hour to hang them up, and we lost two strings of them to the pond (they were working on skimming them out when we had to leave).

“I dunno,” I say. My nerves are starting to catch up with me. It makes no sense for me to be nervous right now. When we’re halfway across the bridge, I stop walking. “Hey, Bram?”

“Yeah?” he asks without turning to look at me. He’s looking out over the water.

“Do you remember that first email you sent me?” I ask.

He frowns. “Vaguely.”

“You started it, ‘Dear anonymous person on the internet.’ I knew from the moment I got that first email that I was in trouble. I fell in love with you over email and have fallen more in love with you every day since I found out who you were.”

Bram grins and turns so his back is against the railing of the bridge. He could be the model for a brochure right now. The lights behind him make him look like he’s glowing a little. “I feel the same way. I can’t believe we’re both college graduates.”

“Shhh… I’m trying to do something here.” He looks at me confused, and I continue, “you are, like, the perfect person. You’re crazy smart and funny and genuinely one of the nicest people on this planet. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have fallen in love with you. And you made it so easy to fall. From the little things you do to surprise me every day to the big gestures that take my breath away. I love that you make me coffee in the morning even though I’m the grumpiest person ever; I love that you put up with my bad habits; I love that you always make sure that our kitchen is stocked with Oreos. I love that you find the good in everyone, even if they don’t deserve it; I love that six and a half years ago, you rode the tilt-a-whirl for me; I love how brave you are and how nerdy and how you love so deeply; I love that you have a mischievous side that you specifically save for me. I don’t know if you’re getting the message, but I really freaking love you.” I get down on one knee. His eyes go wide and he’s making that surprised face that I live for. It’s the second time today, which I’m pretty sure is some kind of record. “Four years ago, I told you that I want it all with you. I want the babies with the smelly diapers, I want the boring adult stuff that comes along with marriage like taxes and insurance and mortgages, and I want decades of sex. I’m ready for all of those things. So, Abraham Louis –”

“Yes,” he whispers.

“You have to let me ask the question.” He nods, so I repeat. “Abraham Louis Greenfeld. Will you make me the happiest guy in the world? Will you marry me?” He’s nodding and tears are slipping down his cheeks. “This is the part where you answer out loud.”

“God, Simon. Yes!” He pulls me to my feet and puts his hands on either side of my face before he kisses me.

We’re kissing like it’s how we breathe, and I think it hits both of us in that moment that we’re actually engaged. And this is our first kiss as an engaged couple. It is certainly a kiss I’ll never forget.

He’s still crying when we break the kiss. I hug him tightly. “I love you,” I whisper.

“I love you too.”

When I stop crying, I pull back, just enough to look at him. He has this pensive look on his face. “What are you thinking about?” I ask curiously.

“You mean aside from how surreal it feels that you’re my fiancé?” he asks. The word makes a shiver go down my back.

My face feels tight, but I can’t stop smiling. I don’t know how Alice ever doesn’t smile. Like, I think my face is stuck like this. “Yeah. Aside from that.”

“I’m thinking about how lucky I am, and I’m trying to commit to memory how perfect my life is right now. When we were juniors in high school, this felt impossible. I couldn’t even think about meeting you in person, and now… I can’t fathom what my life would be like if I hadn’t shown up that day. You’ve given me a whole life I never could have dreamed of.” I’m crying all over again.

“So, you don’t think it’s too soon?” I ask. “I know we’d talked about waiting until we both have jobs…”

He shakes his head. “It’s not too soon. I was going to propose to you, you know. Tomorrow morning.”

“What?” I ask, my eyes wide.

He smiles. “I had this whole idea of making Oreo pancakes for you, and I had this whole proposal speech planned. I was going to ask your parents after dinner tonight.” He has this wistful look on his face. “It wouldn’t have been as good as yours. God, this is all so beautiful.” He looks around at the lights. “You made this so perfect.”

“I want to hear it,” I tell him.

“But we’re already engaged.”

I shake my head. “I don’t care. We can propose to each other. That’ll be our thing. I want to hear what you were going to say, and I don’t want you to get jipped out of your proposal.”

“You want me to propose even though you already proposed?” he asks uncertainly.

I’m not sure where his reluctance is coming from, so I slowly say, “only if you want to.”

“Of course, I want to, but I don’t want to steal your thunder.”

“This is our thunder. You can’t steal something that’s already yours,” I point out.

He nods thoughtfully and takes both of my hands in his. “Jacques.” I feel that shiver and my eyes start to water again. Maybe they never stopped. I don’t know. “August 23, 2014. The day that I finally decided to email you. I’d gone back and forth for a week about whether or not I should email you. You could have been anyone. You could have been a child predator or someone that wanted to mess with me because I’m gay. You turned out to be… you. September 9, 2014. You sent me an email with the subject, ‘but I like awkward people’ after I’d apologized for being awkward. Before I even opened it, I knew I was crushing on someone that I’d never met. Then you told me how your favorite sport was no sports. I laughed so hard that Garrett asked me if I was okay. December 9, 2014. You and Nick got into a huge debate during lunch about Oreos. You gave a passionate speech about how Oreos absolutely qualify as a food group and how arguably, they were the most important food group. It was almost exactly what you had sent to me in an email once. I began to hope that maybe the boy I’d been crushing on since I moved to Creekwood and my Jacques were the same person. I could pass off how much you overused ‘freaking’, but two coincidences? That seemed unlikely. December 16, 2014. You signed your email Love, Jacques for the first time. I thought I was going to combust then and there. January 25, 2015. The day I told you who I was. A lot of people think that was the start of our love story, but we know better. We know the roots of our story grew long before that. The seed was planted over email when we were both still terrified of coming out and of letting the world see us for who we truly are. It grew as we became bolder and flirtier with each other. That day that we met at the Carnival? That wasn’t the day we planted the seed but the day our story blossomed.”

“Oh my God,” I whisper. “This is –”

“Shhh… I’m trying to do something here,” he teases. I let out a watery chuckle. “Simon, I didn’t know this depth of feeling was possible. I love everything about you. I love all the weird stuff like your perpetual bedhead, how grumpy you are in the morning, how passionate you are about Harry Potter, how you’ll start arguments with random strangers that think the movies are better than the books. I love all the good in you like how much you care about everyone in your life, how you go out of your way to make those people happy, how you pack me lunch for work before you go to bed each night and put a little note in with it to put a smile on my face.” He slips down on one knee. I don’t know how Bram was capable of any kind of rational thought because my brain turns off the moment that he’s kneeling in front of me. “So, Simon Irvin Spier. I am deeply, ridiculously in love with you, and all I want is the opportunity to spend the rest of my life showing you that. Will you marry me?” 

I can’t help but laugh but just because I’m so happy right now. “Yes.” I can’t manage anything more than that, but it’s enough. It’s an answer. I kiss him again. It’s weird, but I feel like the kiss actually helps clear my mind. “That was freaking perfect,” I tell him in between kisses. “Seriously. I’m really glad you did this. I loved it. I love you.”

He doesn’t say it back, but I know it’s just because he’s so overwhelmed (and his lips are otherwise occupied). I don’t know how we’re ever supposed to go back inside and sit through dinner.

I feel like there’s something different about this kiss. Maybe it’s because we’ve both proposed or because we’re both so overwhelmed with the magic of this moment, but there’s a new intensity behind it.

When we break the kiss, he turns to face the water and looks out with an awestruck look on his face. Now that the sun has set, the water is reflecting the lights, making us look like we’re surrounded by magical, twinkling lights. I put my arm around his waist and rest my head on his shoulder. For a minute, we stand there, marveling at the peacefulness of the moment.

“We should probably go back in,” he says after a moment.

“Before we do, I have something for you… or for us, I guess,” I tell him. I pull the box out of my jacket pocket. “I don’t want to be presumptuous, so if you don’t want to wear it or if you don’t want me to wear it…”

He waits for me to open the box and picks up one of the slim, silver rings. He squints to look at the engraving. “The lighting. I can’t see what it says,” he admits reluctantly.

“It says, ‘you are the shore worth swimming to.’ I thought it was fitting,” I tell him. He’s kissing me again. I hope it never stops.

It does because kissing forever is not actually feasible, no matter how often I try to convince him it is. “Do I have to put it on my own finger?” he asks.

I grin and shake my head. Somehow, putting the ring on his finger is so much more emotional than proposing. I don’t expect that, but it actually makes me feel like my heart is attempting to fly right out of my body. I reach my ugly cry level when he puts the other ring on my finger. We definitely need to get these adjusted, but we aren’t in danger of losing them or anything, so they’ll do for now.

I kiss him one more time before we go back in. The food is on the table, but no one has touched their meals. Garrett must have gotten back to the table a split second before we did because he’s mid whisper when we get there. Everyone’s silent and is looking at us. “Did everyone know?” Bram asks quietly.

I nod. “Okay, guys, come on. Obviously, he said yes,” I tell them. I can’t even get through the whole sentence without smiling. It’s not possible to feel this magnitude of emotion.

Everyone’s talking at once and we’re being hugged by everyone. It’s such a big deal, and we’re attracting the attention of everyone around us.

“Garrett, tell me you got good pictures with your fancy ass camera,” I beg as everyone starts to take their seats.

He passes me his camera and… I’ve made fun of him before, but I think he actually missed out on his calling. These pictures are phenomenal. There’s me on one knee. Bram’s surprised face. Our kiss after he said yes. Bram on one knee. My stupid crying face. Putting the rings on. It’s all documented here. “These are amazing!” I tell him seriously.

His camera gets passed around the table and everyone’s commenting on how amazing the photos are and how happy we look. Bram squeezes my hand and doesn’t let go.

“Kind of cool that you both proposed,” Nora comments.

My mom is a complete mess as she scrolls through the pictures, and Bram’s mom is inconsolable. Our moms are bouncing off each other, creating this never-ending sob cycle. My dad’s trying to keep it together, but I can see him tearing up as he looks at the pictures. Bram’s dad is trying to explain what engagement means to Noah and it’s the cutest thing because Noah keeps asking, “so Simon’s going to be my brother?” He looks so freaking excited.

I don’t remember if we actually eat dinner or if we’re too full of love to touch our food, but the night is a blur.

The whole next year is a blur. We move and start new jobs. It’s the fastest year of my life. We decide on a June wedding. Bram’s dad doesn’t have to worry about it interfering with school, it’s after Nora’s graduation, and Leah will be done with grad school for the semester.

Bram and I had a long talk about kids a few weeks after we got engaged, and we decided that we wanted to have a baby that was biologically ours (well, one of ours – I do know how babies are made). We agreed that we would pursue adoption or fostering when we’re older, but for our first baby, we extensively researched surrogacy agencies. I almost cried when the surrogacy agency told us how expensive it would be. It didn’t change our minds, we just started saving as much as we could. We knew it would be several years before we’d be able to commit to the process.

Because we are saving every penny, we are getting married at my parents’ house in a small ceremony. Alice and my mom really transformed our backyard into a magical wedding venue. There are these giant tents that take up most of the backyard and portable fans that actually create a really pleasant breeze in the June heat. The backyard is big enough for everyone we invited, which is really all that matters to me.

The area where Abby is going to marry us has rows and rows of chairs facing a podium. Abby took this class online and got her certificate. There’s another area that’s still being set up with tables where the reception is going to take place.

I don’t expect a Bachelor party, but Nick shows up at my door the night before our wedding with the biggest shit-eating grin on his face and informs me that he is kidnapping me. I have no idea if Garrett’s doing the same thing for Bram. We’d agreed to spend the night apart, and I’d given my phone to my mom for safe keeping so I could avoid the temptation to call him or FaceTime him or call an Uber to drive me to him.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“Put your shoes on,” Nick instructs. I guess he’s not answering my question.

“Do I need to change?”

“No,” he confirms.

I quickly throw on my shoes and follow him to his car. “When do I get to find out where you’re taking me?”

He shrugs. Really helpful. Nick’s parallel parking before I realize where we are. “Is this?”

“Yep,” he says with a really pleased look on his face. “It’s your last chance to go to a gay bar as a single…” I glare at him, so he corrects, “as an unmarried guy. I still can’t believe you’re getting married.”

We walk in and it seems like I know everyone is here. Kellan and Grover are here, and Leah and Abby, and Garrett. I half expect to see my parents sitting in a booth, but it looks like my family excused themselves from this particular life event.

Wait, Garrett? “Is Bram here?” I ask.

“Yeah,” Nick admits. “We thought the two of you would have a better time that way. Is this okay?”

“This is freaking perfect,” I confirm. I’m scanning the crowd, but I don’t see him.

“We called ahead,” Nick explains. “They have a special tonight in honor of your bachelor party. It’s called the Spierfeld.”

I could kiss him. Seriously. “Spierfeld?” I ask.

He shrugs. “It sounded better than Greenspier,” he defends.

I shake my head. “No, I love it. It’s perfect. So, what exactly is a Spierfeld?”

He grins as we walk over to the bar. “You’ll see.” He flags down one of the bartender. “This is Spier of Spierfeld.”

The bartender grins. “Congrats, mate,” he says to me. He has a slight British accent and is wearing A FREAKING GRYFFINDOR SCARF. He makes a drink and it’s served to me in a plastic cup with soccer balls on it. It tastes like lemonade.

“This is so good,” I happily sigh.

“Oh, also… it’s karaoke night,” Nick says with a huge smile on his face. I look where he’s pointing and see Bram. He’s wearing a Ravenclaw scarf.

“Did he know?” I ask.

“No. Garrett thought you’d like it. He was in charge of Bram; I was in charge of you. Speaking of which…” he drops something around my neck. I look down to see one of Bram’s soccer medals. The thick gold is indented to look like a soccer ball.

I barely have time to think about that before Bram is belting out the lyrics to ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart’. He hates his singing voice, so he must really love me. Or he is a lot drunker than I am.

Nick pushes me towards the platform and honestly, this is one of the biggest couple’s cliché moments of my life, and I love every minute of it. When we finish the song, Bram kisses my cheek and a man dressed all in black comes on stage. “Let’s hear it for the future Mr. and Mr. Greenfeld-Spier,” he calls.

I’m incredibly impressed that he knows we decided on hyphenating, and I have a feeling Garrett or Nick are behind that. Bram and I essentially spend the rest of the night being congratulated by people we don’t know. It seems like almost everyone that went to high school with us pops in at some point to congratulate us. There’s an endless flow of free drinks, but we both cut ourselves off pretty early. We want to be fully functional tomorrow. This young guy with wide, nervous eyes, who’s giving me flashbacks to freshly outed Junior year Simon that had been dragged here for the first time, tells me that I give him hope. He has to be in high school. There’s no way he’s older than I was my first time here.

It’s an amazing night, and I can hardly believe it. At 11:30pm, Nick climbs onto the bar. The bartender is glaring at him but doesn’t ask him to get down. “Excuse me,” he calls. “If I could have your attention, please.” He waits until some people are looking at him. “My name is Nick Eisner, co-best man to the groom, Simon Spier.” He holds out his hand, and my jaw drops when Leah accepts it and climbs up as well.

“And I am Leah Burke. Other co-best man to the groom, Simon Spier.” Leah’s cheeks are red and if I didn’t know better, I’d say she’s been drinking. But I know her, so I do know better. She must be drunk on this moment. I can’t blame her. I almost laugh when I spot Abby. She’s looking at Leah like she’s a goddess. Abby’s not that far off.

They shuffle down a little, and Garrett climbs up. What is happening? I look at Bram, but he looks just as uncertain as I do. “And I am Garrett Laughlin, best man to the groom, Bram Greenfeld.”

“We know this isn’t the most traditional Bachelor party, but we wanted to thank everyone that showed up to support Simon and Bram,” Nick says. “And all the people that don’t personally know Bram and Simon, but still offered their congratulations and support tonight. We are all so excited to watch them start this next chapter of their lives together.”

“In the spirit of nontraditional, we wanted to give our unfiltered best men speeches tonight. A warning to all you lovely folk in here, this will be a ride,” Leah adds. “As a general disclaimer, there will be…” she’s patting her pockets and looks at Nick who passes her an index card. “Right. There will be some innuendos sprinkled throughout our charming anecdotes…” She looks at Nick. “Charming anecdotes?” She raises her eyebrow. I am shaking in Bram’s arms because this is already the most perfect best man speech ever. I knew making them co-best men was going to be an amazing decision. “Our supposedly charming anecdotes may hint at… oh my God, Eisner. These are not the words I agreed to.” She crumples up the index card and throws it behind her. “We’re gonna talk about sex without talking about sex. If that makes you uncomfortable, we’re sorry.”

“So, buckle in,” Garrett says. He looks right at me and Bram and winks before he pulls a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. He obviously rehearsed this because he barely had to look at the paper. “I first met Bram about a month after he and his mom moved to Creekwood. He showed up for soccer try-outs a few weeks before school started. He turned in his paperwork to coach and shrugged when he was asked if he was any good. He sat down so he had his own area and started to put on his cleats. That first day of try-outs, he barely spoke. He did every drill and would say thank you if he was complimented, but other than that he was silent. On the second day of try-outs, once we started stretching, Karl, our captain at the time, was messing around, and he tried to juggle three soccer balls. His friend started laughing and asked him if he was enjoying playing with his balls. Bram, who hadn’t uttered a word up to that point, mutters under his breath, ‘at least he has balls’. I think I was the only one that heard him, and I couldn’t stop laughing.” Garrett pauses for the laugh.

I turn to look at Bram. “Where are your dirty jokes when you’re with me?” I ask with a pout. He rolls his eyes.

Garrett continues. “It would be almost three months before Bram and I would actually become friends. My mom never showed up to pick me up after one of our soccer games and Bram waited with me until she called to explain that she was with my grandmother. I didn’t have my key, so Bram invited me over. It was the first time we’d actually talked about something other than soccer. We’ve been best friends ever since.”

“Simon and I go way back,” Nick says. “I’m pretty sure we became best friends the day we met. We’ve always lived close to each other and as far as I’m aware, we spent our whole childhood begging our parents to let us go to the other’s house.”

“I came into Simon’s life a little later, but just as quickly. I met him as my family was crumbling and his family practically absorbed me as their own,” Leah says. “Simon, Nick, and I became a trio. We didn’t do anything without each other. We truly got to see Simon at his finest.”

“We got to see his discovery and subsequent overuse of ‘that’s what she said’ jokes,” Nick adds. “If you don't believe me, let me tell you a little about middle school Simon.”

I groan. I used to have middle school locked down. This feels like such a betrayal. “Just remember. I’m a lot more mature now,” I whisper.

“No, you’re not,” Bram says confidently. He squeezes my hand.

“When we were in the seventh grade, we made this disgusting concoction at lunch one day out of mashed potatoes and ketchup and pieces of cookie. Pretty much whatever we could get our hands on. Simon looked me right in the eye and dared me to eat it. I told him, ‘I’m not putting that in my mouth’. He started to giggle and blurts out, ‘that’s what she said’. Leah’s just sitting there, biting her lip so she doesn’t laugh. Me? I couldn’t hold it together. I started laughing so hard, I actually made myself puke, and the school nurse sent me home. Simon came over right after school with a fake paper stethoscope that he made in class and looked so proud of himself."

"Fast forwarding to junior year when Bram and Simon started anonymously emailing each other and essentially forgot about social etiquette," Garrett says dramatically. I snort. He's one to talk about social etiquette. "What you have to know about Bram is, he's like this hyper-focused, serious nerd. There used to be nothing that could tear him away from his schoolwork, but all of a sudden, he was randomly sighing and would stare at his wall when he was supposed to be doing homework. I knew he was falling for someone before he ever even told me. And then he did. He'd just gotten an email where Simon tried to guess who he was. Spoiler alert: he guessed wrong, folks. Bram was sitting at his desk and was staring out his window with this frustrated look on his face. I asked him a question and he responded with, ‘no, I’m not in love. Why would you ask that?’ I hadn’t asked that. Like, at all. And the story started coming out. I like to take some responsibility for Simon and Bram because I single-handedly got him to the Winter Carnival when they met in person.”

Bram scoffs. “Single-handedly,” he mutters. “I was with him when I got that email. I hardly think that counts.”

“He was the one to tell you to give me a chance,” I point out.

Bram sighs, but doesn’t argue that point.

“Their saga obviously continued. Something you need to know is how much Simon blushes whenever someone talks about Bram. You say Bram’s name, and I swear, blood rushes to Simon’s face. I guess it’s better than it rushing somewhere else.” OMG. I’m gonna die. Right here. Right now. This is where it ends. There are howls and whistles all around me. I don’t know where Leah found this confidence, but I’d like her to return it ASAP. “He also blushes whenever someone makes an innuendo or talks about sex around him.” Leah looks me right in the eye. “It’s really  _ hard _ to find the perfect story for this. I'd have to think for a  _ long  _ time to  _ come _ up with the most  _ pleasurable _ story. I don’t want to  _ blow _ this, so I think I’m going to go with the obvious." She enunciates her words. 

I know I'm a deep shade of red because Bram protectively wraps his arms around me and whispers, "whatever story she's about to tell, I hope it keeps you blushing like this."

God. This isn't fair.

“The ultimate Simon story  _ came _ a few months after he and Bram started dating." I stiffen in Bram’s hold because I'm suddenly pretty sure I know what story she's about to tell. "I was over at Simon's house and we were reading Harry Potter fanfiction. Simon was focusing a little too intently, almost like he was doing homework."

Bram is literally shaking because he's trying not to laugh. He knows this story almost as well as I do.

"I asked Simon why he was so focused, and this poor kid turned the brightest red you could imagine. Kind of like he looks now. He goes, 'no reason. What mom? I think she's calling me.' Like I didn't know his mom wasn't home. Naturally, that fucking piqued my interest, and I absolutely needed more information. I stole Simon's laptop and discovered that he had about 1000 tabs open with different explicit Drarry fics. For those of you that don't know Drarry, that's a pairing of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. To  _ top _ it all off, Simon was making a fucking list of things that sounded fun and things that sounded like too much for him. If that’s not proof that he’s too fucking precious for this world, I don’t know what is."

There's laughter around us and I don’t know if it’s in response to her story or my reaction to her story.

“From the moment that Simon and Bram met in person, they were hopelessly in love,” Nick says.

“You could tell they both had a permanent residence in the other person’s head,” Leah adds.

“We tried to think of the perfect Simon and Bram story that captured their relationship,” Garrett explains.

“Do we talk about them meeting at the Carnival and the fact that they skipped lunch more than they went to it after that?” Nick asks with a huge grin.

“Do we talk about the terrible excuses they made at parties our senior year so they could go make out in a closet?” Leah adds. “Simon, just so you know. We all know you and Bram did not have to collaborate on an English paper as often as you claimed. Unless that’s a euphemism. Then we were all too aware.”

“Do we talk about one of the ways they surprised each other for anniversaries, birthdays, or holidays?” Garrett asks.

“Or do we talk about their engagement? When they proposed to each other and both of them got to say yes?” Nick suggests.

“We kept thinking of these big life moments,” Leah explains.

“And we realized that the ultimate Simon and Bram story wasn’t a big moment.” Garrett puts his hand on Nick’s shoulder and looks out at everyone in the crowd. “The ultimate Simon and Bram story happened in December a little over a year ago. Simon came back to Georgia almost a week and a half before Bram did because he’d finished his last semester of college, and Bram couldn’t get off work the week before Christmas. We were having a little get together at my house with all of our friends and some of the guys that played soccer with us in high school.”

“Bram wasn’t supposed to come. He wasn’t even supposed to be in Atlanta until the next day, but there had been an opening on an earlier flight,” Nick contributes. “About an hour after we’d all gotten there, Bram showed up at Garrett’s door.”

I remember that night so vividly. Bram had written me a story for the nine days we were apart. He’d written it as if we were Hogwarts students – he was the cute Ravenclaw that needed to tutor me so I wouldn’t fail out of Hogwarts. It was single handedly the best thing I’ve ever read.

“It was like the rest of us weren’t even there. Simon ran to Bram – I remember watching him run and thinking that if he’d run like that in gym class, our teachers would have had actual expectations for him,” Leah jokes. “He even jumped over a coffee table to get to Bram and then the two of them disappeared.”

“For over an hour,” Garrett complains. “We waited a while to go check on them because we thought they were doing the nasty.”

I snort. The nasty? What is even happening right now? Nick is squeezing his lips together as if he’s also trying not to laugh. “The nasty,” he mutters. His voice cracks, and I’m pretty sure he’s about a split second from losing it. “They weren’t doing anything. Garrett and I went to investigate. We figured if they were… indecent.” Nick can’t hold himself together and starts cracking up. “I’m sorry. These words. I didn’t write them, if you can’t tell.” He puts his hand over his eyes and takes a few deep breaths. “Leah. This is on you.”

“I didn’t go with them at first, but then Nick called for me,” Leah explains. “I got upstairs, and I saw Garrett and Nick giggling outside of one of Garrett’s spare bedrooms.”

“Simon and Bram were fully clothed and were fast asleep,” Garrett elaborates. “That spare bedroom only had this little kid bed in it. It was so short, Bram’s legs hung off the end.”

“It was a tiny bed, but they easily left enough space for another person next to them,” Nick adds.

“Garrett and Nick were arguing about whether they should wake them up, when Nick starts shaking the edge of the bed and yells, ‘earthquake!’,” Leah chuckles. “Simon and Bram sat up and I think they actually thought it was an earthquake. Bram told Simon that everything would be okay, and Simon told Bram he knew it would be okay because they were together. I wanted to puke.”

“But that is Simon and Bram in a nutshell,” Garrett says. “They know that when they are together, there is absolutely nothing that they can’t get through.”

“You are probably wondering why we didn’t save this story for the wedding tomorrow, right?” Nick asks. “It’s cute; it’s sweet; it’s perfect.”

“Well, thank you for asking. We cannot tell this story tomorrow because Bram’s mom does not know that he came home a day early. That’s right. Bram caught an Uber from the airport to Garrett’s house and then spent the night with Simon in a hotel.” Leah kind of says it like she’s announcing a prize on a game show.

There are scattered, “oohs” throughout the bar.

Someone passes me and Bram a bright orange shot. It kind of looks like the first shot I ever took. I look around and almost everyone has one.

“We are so excited for Simon and Bram to start this next chapter of their life together,” Garrett says as he passes shots to Leah and Nick. The bartender hands him one more and he holds on to this one. “It is almost midnight, but before we take Simon and Bram back to their individual homes for their last unmarried night, we would like you to join us in a toast.”

“Simon and Bram. We love you both, and we’re so happy for you,” Leah says. Leah’s freaking tearing up, which I think is the most surprising thing to happen tonight. “You deserve everything and more.”

In unison, the three of them say, “to the groom and groom.” They clink their shots together and down them. It’s happening all around us.

“I love you,” I whisper to Bram. He holds my hand as we take our shots.

There’s another round of congratulations and good lucks before Garrett and Nick come to retrieve us.

Nick barely gets me out of the bar on time. I swear, I think we’re walking out the door at exactly 11:59. It’s really important to him that I don’t see Bram on our actual wedding day until the ceremony.

“This was amazing,” I tell him once I’m in his car. “Thanks.”

Nick looks pleased. “I’m glad you had fun. I know it wasn’t a wild and crazy bachelor party or Harry Potter world, but…”

“But it was perfect for us,” I finish. I rest my head against his window. I’d thrown around Harry Potter World as a joke when it had first opened. “It was perfect.” I stifle a yawn. I feel exhausted and wide awake all at the same time. “Your speech. That was perfect too. The perfect end to the perfect bachelor party.”

“How are you feeling about tomorrow?” he asks.

“Honestly? I’m just really freaking happy. I know it’s supposed to be scary or whatever, but it doesn’t feel scary to be marrying Bram. It feels… right.” I don’t know if I’m explaining that right.

“How did you know you were ready to get married?” His voice is so quiet and there’s something strange in his tone. I look over at him. He is gripping his steering wheel and actually looks kind of nervous.

I really think about his question. “When I first started dating him, I thought very vaguely about our future together. A couple of years ago, those thoughts started to become very specific and were happening more often. I knew I was ready when I started thinking about how I wanted things to happen.” Nick almost looks disappointed, so I add, “but that’s just me. I’ve known from the very beginning that we were going to be together for the rest of our lives. I didn’t have to wrap my head around the idea of marrying him. That’s always been there. I just needed to figure out when we would be ready for that to happen.” Nick just nods. I suddenly wish Bram was here. He's much better at this stuff. "Is there a reason you ask?"

He sighs. "I don't know. I don't think about stuff like that, and I don't know if that means I'm with the wrong person or if it just means I'm not ready," he admits. "I keep thinking that at some point, it'll be like I'm done reading this chapter of my book, and I’ll be ready for what comes next. What if that never happens? What if I’m stuck in this chapter for the rest of my life?”

I frown and look away from him. “You’re not going to like this,” I say quietly. “Maybe if you’re feeling like you’re stuck, it’s time for a new book.” Wow. Am I as philosophical as Nick? “I’ve never felt stuck with Bram. If anything, I feel like he unsticks me… unstuck me? Unstack? Unsticked? You know what I mean. He’s like a book that I can’t put down, and I don’t want to put it down.” I look over at Nick. I feel like I’m losing momentum with this metaphor. “I can’t tell you what’s right for you. You’re young and you’ve got lots of time to figure this stuff out. Maybe it means nothing that you don’t want this stuff right now, but I can say it’s so easy to want this stuff with Bram, and I don’t think it should be hard. Even if you’re thinking about it as something for the future, it shouldn’t be hard to think about.” Maybe I should have been a guidance counselor; I give great advice when I’m drunk. Then again, I don’t think anyone would take it well if I had to drink before going to work.

“Hmmm,” he says.

He still looks unhappy, but I don’t know how to fix that. We spend the rest of the trip in silence.

I’m confused when he pulls a duffel bag out of the back of his car and grabs a garment bag. “Are you staying here?” I ask.

“Leah and I thought that tonight might be the perfect night for a sleepover. For old time’s sake. She’s dropping a few people off, and then she’ll be here,” he explains. “It’s been a long time and with our schedules never really working out, we thought it would be fun.”

I don’t even answer him; I’m just grinning from ear to ear.

It really hits me around 4am that we might not have another night like this and that in 13 hours, I’ll never not be married to Bram again. It makes me simultaneously sad and happy, which essentially triggers my ugly cry. Leah and Nick have no idea what to do with me.

“Okay, Spier. Pull it together,” Leah says. “What are you crying about? You are marrying the fucking love of your life tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I am,” I sob. “And that makes me so freaking happy. Like, I can’t even say. But you guys? You’ve been my best friends for like… for forever. And things are gonna be different between us now. And I somehow miss you both already. Freaking fuck. What is wrong with me right now?”

Leah chuckles. “Freaking fuck. That right there? That is proof that things are gonna be exactly the same between us. Because, I swear, if you ever change, I will kill you.”

“Look, man,” Nick says. “We’ve all changed so much since we met. You came out to us and fell in love with Bram. Leah and Abby. We live in three different states. I’ve obviously stayed a philosophical stud.” Nick flexes and I can’t help the weird, strangled laugh that comes out of me. “And look where we are. We’re in your basement, together. You’re going to change; I’m going to change; Leah’s going to change. That’s life. But this life? This life brought the three of us together; it brought us to the aquarium in the fifth grade; it brought us back together in college despite the fact that I never thought I’d be able to be around Leah again; it brought us here tonight. Life didn’t work this hard to bring us together to tear us apart because you’re getting married. The three of us are always going to be best friends.”

Leah and I are both staring at him with our mouths open. “Jesus,” I breathe.

“Amen,” Leah agrees.

It’s one of those perfect moments we share, and I just feel so freaking lucky right now.

I think I blink and then Nick is shaking me. I roll away from him and groan. I don’t actually remember falling asleep and my fatigue clings to me. I think Nick is telling me that I need to wake up, but I ignore him. I’m so sleepy.

I hear footsteps coming down the stairs. “Your soon-to-be husband is a goddamn saint,” Leah says. I smell coffee and open my eyes to see a to-go coffee cup in front of me. I sit up. “He didn’t want you to miss out on your morning coffee, so he fucking made it from his mom’s house and had Garrett drive it over here this morning. I, of course, wasn’t here to get it from him because I was delivering peanut butter toast to Bram, per your adamant insistence that that’s one of my primary responsibilities as co-best man. I want to go on record and say you two are fucking gross.”

She hands me the coffee and there’s a little note written on the cup.  _ I love you. I’ll see you later. -Blue _

I sigh and take a sip. It’s perfect. Like always. “Okay, Romeo,” Leah says. “You need to finish that and jump in the shower.”

“How are we on time?” I ask. I wish I had my phone on me. I have absolutely no clue what time it is.

“It’s almost noon,” Nick provides.

“How did Bram know to bring me coffee?” I ask.

“I texted Garrett to let him know I was going to wake you up around 11. He must have told Bram.” Nick shrugs.

“The photographer is currently with them to get pictures of their process… I don’t actually know what that means,” Leah says. She has a freaking clipboard. I kid you not. A clipboard. “He’ll be here at 1, so you need to be showered and fed by then.”

“Aye aye, captain,” I tease.

“Move it. Your tux is already in your old bedroom,” Leah tells me.

“You said I have until 1,” I pout. “That’s plenty of time.

Leah gives me her furious stare. “You have to get through two floors of Spiers to get to your bedroom. I’m not an idiot. Now get moving or I will get Nick to pick you up and drag you to your bedroom.”

She’s not wrong. My mom takes one look at me and I’m subjected to a 20-minute spiel about married life and how it’s a commitment to live your life for two people. My dad makes a really weird joke about pleasing Bram for the rest of my life. They both agree that they want grandchildren, but not too soon. On the bright side, I’m actually awake before I jump in the shower.

I expect the hours before my wedding to drag by, but they fly. Nora and Alice come in to sit with me after Nick and I get dressed. It’s hard to believe that I’m the first of us to get married. Alice had her heart set on a November wedding, so she’s gonna have an over two-year engagement so she can get married at the venue she wants. She couldn’t get the place for this past November.

Abby tries to tame my bedhead, but eventually, she just embraces it and styles it so I have an intentionally messy look. She asks me if I want to put on eyeliner for Bram, but I decide against it. I’ve kind of grown to love how I look with eyeliner, but I never feel like me when I wear it. I feel like Simon 2.0. And I love Simon 2.0, but this is the happiest day of my life, and I want to feel like me, like Simon 1.0. Leah’s mom and Abby tag team on Nora and Alice. Their catchphrase is, “I’ve watched this on Youtube.”

Leah comes in just as Abby is finishing up with Alice.

“Okay. Bram and Garrett are here,” she says. “There was a small issue with Noah and his suit, but I believe I heard something about bribery with ice cream, so it seems like it’s all under control now, and they should all be here before we do family pictures.”

Liam, our photographer, turns to me. He’s taken approximately a million pictures already. My tux before I put it on, my shoes against the carpet, Nick and I, Abby doing our hair. I don’t think there’s anything he didn’t take pictures of. He’s very thorough. “Are you ready for the first look?” he asks.

I feel my heart thump excitedly. I’ve kind of been picturing prom-Bram in a tuxedo, but he looks so different now. I mean, both of us do. We’ve grown up a lot since prom. We picked out our tuxedos separately, so I have no idea what he chose. Bram’s favorite part of his dad’s wedding had been watching them turn around and see each other for the first time. He said that was the first time he realized how happy his dad was with his stepmom, and he wants that moment for us. It’s really hard to say no to him. He’s very… convincing when he has his mind set on something.

I’m wearing a heather gray tuxedo with a dark green bowtie because Nick’s eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head when he saw me in it. I think his exact words were, “shit, Spier.” I’d tried on approximately every freaking tuxedo in existence up to that point, so that was a pretty big compliment. Even my dad had been speechless, and I don’t remember him ever truly being at a loss for words in his life.

I’m blindfolded which immediately prompts approximately 50 jokes from Nick and Leah. I wish we had waited for the blindfold because going down the stairs with a blindfold is absolutely terrifying.

I know when we get outside because of the heat. It doesn’t take long before I feel the breeze of the fans. It’s actually okay out here. I was kind of nervous about that.

“Looking good, Spier,” I hear Garrett say.

“Woah, wait til you see Bram,” Leah whispers.

“Okay, we’re going to turn you and then have you walk backwards until you get to Abraham,” Liam says

“Bram,” I immediately correct. I hope he didn’t call Bram ‘Abraham’ all morning. I can picture Bram letting it slide despite how much it definitely would have bothered him, but Garrett should have said something. I don’t think he said my name once while he was taking pictures, so I’m hoping that he just never had the chance to say his name.

“Bram,” he agrees. “Sorry.”

Someone turns me and I walk slowly backwards. “Bram’s behind you,” Leah tells me.

I reach back. “That’s not my hand,” Bram says breathlessly. His voice practically wraps around me.

I chuckle. “Oh, I know,” I tell him.

“Simon. Our parents are here,” he reminds me.

I sigh but move my hand and tangle it with his. “I actually didn’t know who was here outside of Leah and Garrett,” I admit. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. There will be plenty of time for that tonight. Maybe you can squeeze something other than my butt,” he suggests. It’s so freaking unfair because I know I’m turning bright red, but if I were to tell anyone what Bram just said, they wouldn’t believe me. He puts off this innocent, self-conscious vibe to everyone else. Then again, there’s something very special about him saving this part of himself just for me.

“Why are you blushing?” Leah asks.

“Oh… it must be the heat from the sun,” I manage.

“You’re not in the sun,” she points out.

“I wouldn’t know that. I still can’t see anything,” I argue.

“Best men. You can remove the blindfolds,” Liam says.

The first person I see is my mom. She hadn’t popped in while I was getting ready and I’m almost glad that she didn’t. She looks so freaking beautiful right now. She’s wearing this soft blue dress that shines in the sun. She actually looks like an angel. She mouths,  _ I love you _ to me and I’m just barely holding myself together. “Okay, you can turn in three… two… one…”

I turn to Bram and it takes me an embarrassingly long time to actually look at what he’s wearing. The smile on his face is captivating, and for a minute, that’s all there is in the world. Everything except for him melts away. He looks like a groom. He looks like someone that’s about to get married, and it’s surreal to me that I’m the one he’s marrying.

Liam interrupts our moment and takes another million pictures. My parents, then my family, then Bram’s mom, then his dad and stepmom, then all of his parents, then Nick and Leah, then Garrett, then Nick, Leah, and Garret. I suddenly understand why we started taking pictures two hours before the ceremony. We take every possible photograph combination. My face hurts from smiling so much. There will somehow be more family pictures after the ceremony with grandparents and guests. We finish thirty minutes before the ceremony and people are already starting to arrive. My grandparents, aunt, and cousins are sitting as close to the front as possible on the right side. Bram’s grandmother and his grandparents on his mom’s side are the left side. A couple of rows behind Bram’s grandparents are his uncle and cousins.

Cal is sitting in the very last row on the right. I look around for Nora, but she’s already back inside. Bram and I aren’t walking down the aisle, but our parents, siblings, and best men are. They have all disappeared, so they must be confirming whatever their plans are. I know that they’re scheming something because the processional was my mom’s only request and she has refused to talk about it since Bram and I gave her the go ahead. My only sense of peace with their processional is that Bram’s mom is part of it, and she’d never agree to anything too outlandish.

It’s very informal as more and more people arrive. Bram and I stay outside and greet people. Kellan shows people to their seats and gives them a piece of paper that he collects from them after a few minutes. He will not tell us what the paper is for and we don’t have the chance to sneak a peek at it. Other than that, he’s taking his responsibility as usher very seriously. He would have been a groomsman had we not decided on just a best man (or co-best men when Bram took pity on me and my indecisive nature).

I’m shocked when Aditya, one of our neighbors shows up. Aditya is pregnant with triplets and looks like she’s 15 months pregnant (her words; I would never say that out loud). I walk over to her. “We told you that you didn’t have to come,” I tell her. She’s been absolutely miserable. Apparently growing three human beings isn’t super fun.

“You and Bram are the first neighbors that have made the slightest effort to get to know me and Andrew. You’ve dog sat for us a hundred times, and you’ve babysat AJ during every single one of our date nights without complaint. Of course, we were coming,” she huffs. She’s out of breath before she takes her seat. “Besides, what a story it would be to tell our kids that they came during your wedding.” I stare at her. I’m really hoping she’s joking. She starts to laugh, so I assume she is. “Don’t worry. I’ve still got almost three months left. Knock on wood, they shouldn’t be coming anytime soon. We wanted to be here to support you.” Andrew joins her with the largest bottle of water I have ever seen.

Maybe it’s superstitious, but I cautiously knock on a tree as I’m making my way back to the makeshift altar.

Kellan pops inside before he comes to where Bram and I are standing. “We’re going to get started in five minutes,” he tells us.

I feel a nervous, excited shiver go down my back. In five minutes, I’ll be Bram’s husband for the rest of my life. Well, I guess it will be more than five minutes before Abby declares us husbands, but still.

Music starts to play, and I look at Bram. “Ready?” I whisper.

“I’ve been ready for years,” he whispers back.

Abby comes first. She’s doing this corny dance and is smiling brilliantly. Then it’s Garrett’s turn, and he’s all limbs. I manage to hold it together as he makes his way down the aisle. I’ll never understand how someone so athletic can be so uncoordinated at dancing. Nick and Leah go next and they’re doing like a fast-paced slow dance down the aisle.

Then it’s Noah and Caleb’s turn. They are both carrying off-white ring cushions. Noah takes one look at all the people and he’s beaming and waving. He drops his cushion about halfway down the aisle and I suddenly understand why the ring-bearer doesn’t actually bring the rings down the aisle. Caleb is just like Bram. He’s solemn and serious and is holding his cushion like it’s made of gold. Noah high-fives us before he takes a seat with Bram’s stepmom. Caleb hands Bram the cushion; Bram passes it to Abby, who puts it God knows where.

I’m too distracted to look because then it’s Nora’s and Alice’s turn. They are doing a modified version of our Alice and the chipmunks dance and my composure breaks. For a minute, I’m seven and we’re performing it for my parents for the first time. I remember my dad falling out of his chair because he laughed so hard. My stomach hurts because I’m trying not to laugh out loud.

I completely lose it when my parents do their dance down the aisle, and Bram’s hysterical when his mom and dad are dancing down the aisle.

Everyone takes their seats and Abby starts the ceremony. She reads this long and beautiful poem about love and gives her personal narrative about our relationship. She thanks our families for raising us and supporting us and thanks everyone that came today. It’s so sweet and perfect.

And then it’s time for the vows. “Bram, would you like to offer your vows?” Abby asks.

Bram nods. “I would like to read a note that I wrote you a long time ago.” Garrett passes him a folded piece of paper, and Bram opens it. He reads, “Jacques… Simon… I guess I’m going to have to get used to using your real name now. Even after I found out who you were, I mentally called you my Jacques. Jacques was this perfect guy that lived in my computer. He always knew exactly what to say to me, dropped so many hints about who he was, and had a really cute problem with sentence fragments. Jacques was the perfect person, but Simon? You’re so much than Jacques. You’re so brave and funny, and you make me want to be brave. That’s why, when I got to the carnival and saw you getting on the tilt-a-whirl, I didn’t hesitate. I sat next to you in the pod and instantly thought I’d made the biggest mistake of my life. When I had to sit down the moment I was off the ride, you stayed with me. You were wearing your Elliott Smith t-shirt and didn’t look the slightest bit frazzled that we’d just gotten off a spinning death trap. You started asking me questions, like you couldn’t quite believe it was me.” Bram takes a deep shaky breath. “I was so scared you were disappointed, but then you leaned in. All you said was, ‘I want to hold your hand.’ You looked like you thought I might say no, like that was even a possibility. When you held my hand tonight, I knew. I knew it was possible to fall in love over email, and I knew that I’d fallen in love with you. There are so many things I didn’t say to you tonight. That’s one of them. I am in love with you, Simon Spier. I don’t care if we’re too young or if it’s too soon to feel that way. I don’t know what these next few days, or weeks, or months will bring us, but I believe I will find out. With you, I believe there will be days, weeks, months, years, and decades. With you, I believe there will be corny dates, endless laughs, and lots of sentence fragments. With you, I am strong enough to be myself. With you, I’m all in. Love, Bram.” Bram folds up his note and puts it in his pocket. “I wrote that note the day I met you in person, and I’ve only fallen more in love with you since that day. Simon, today I stand before all these people ready to make you my husband. As your husband, I promise to always support you. I promise not to complain during endless Harry Potter marathons. I promise not to take it personally when you’re grumpy and irrational in the morning. I promise to help you build the life that you deserve.” Bram sniffs and I can’t. It was apparently a crazy pipe dream to think I was going to get through vows before I started crying. I should have gone first. “I promise to navigate all of life’s uncertainties with you. Above all else, I promise to love you for the rest of my life. Just like I said seven and a half years ago, I am all in.”

“Simon, would you like to offer your vows?” Abby asks.

I nod and cough to clear my throat. “Bram.” My voice cracks and I can hear some sniffling coming from our guests. “I knew the moment I met you that you were my forever.” I don’t think I’m going to make it through my vows. I take a deep breath, but I don’t think it actually helps me calm down. “There are so many things about you that are perfect, but I know it makes you uncomfortable when I talk about those things, so I’m not going to. Instead, I’m going to tell you how overwhelmingly lucky I am to have such a perfect person in my life. Bram, you accepted me for all that I am. More than that, at a point in my life when I felt all alone and I was trying to hide my truth from the world, you helped me accept myself. In a couple of minutes, you will officially be my husband, and I yours. We made it to this point. Life has thrown so much at us, but I’ve always known we would get through anything as long as we were together. I am so freaking lucky to be standing before you right now. I promise to remember how lucky I am for the rest of my life. I promise to remind you how special and important you are. I promise to be a loyal and devoted husband. I promise to be the best dad I can be when we start our family. I promise to be your teammate, best friend, other half, and partner in crime for everything in this life. I am so ridiculously in love with you and I promise to show you that for the rest of our lives.”

I actually think I do okay. I think my vows are audible and understandable so that’s something.

Abby takes a second to wipe her eyes once I finish. “Simon and Bram, you have both made your personal expressions of commitment, so now I get to officially ask. Bram, do you take Simon Irvin Spier to be your husband for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” Bram says.

“Simon, do you take Abraham Louis Greenfeld to be your husband for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” I promise.

“Great,” Abby says enthusiastically. “Please hold hands.” Bram squeezes my hands when he takes them. “Taking the hand of the one who love you is a powerful symbol of the unspoken bond between you. Please look at your partner, so you may see the gift that they are to you. Your best friend is holding your hand on your wedding day. These are the hands that will work aside you as you build your future together. These are the hands that will get wrinkled with age yet will always reach out for yours. While holding hands, you guys… sort of make a perfect circle. A circle that has no beginning and no end, which is a common metaphor used with wedding rings. Yet, we know that’s not true. All wedding rings have a beginning, just like your love had a beginning. But it won’t have an end. No matter what happens, your love will live on in you for the rest of time. Garrett, do you have the ring?” He wordlessly takes the ring out of his pocket and passes it to Bram. “Bram, repeat after me.”

I don’t hear the words when Abby says them because I’m distracted by Bram putting the wedding band on my finger. His silky voice wraps around me. “With this ring, I pledge to love you today, tomorrow, always, and forever.”

Abby must ask Nick to pass me the ring because he nudges me. I try to focus a little more as I put the ring on Bram’s finger. “With this ring, I pledge to love you today, tomorrow, always, and forever.”

“Simon and Bram, before these witnesses you have pledged to wed. You have now sealed this pledge with your wedding rings. By the power vested in me by The American Marriage Ministries and the State of Georgia, I now pronounce you husbands. You may kiss!”

Finally! Bram’s hand comes up to my cheek and he’s kissing me. He’s kissing me as his husband for the first time. It feels fucking amazing.

It’s way too short for my liking, but we are surrounded by people. He holds my hand tightly when we part.

“Friends, family, and loved ones, may I now present to you for the first time: Mr. and Mr. Greenfeld-Spier,” Abby declares.

There’s cheering and whistling, but I’m oblivious to everything except my husband’s hand in my own. My HUSBAND’s hand. My HUSBAND. HUSBAND!!!!

I want to scream it from the rooftops or something. For a split second, I entertain that notion. I’m sure there’s some way to get on the roof. But it will undoubtedly be followed by my fall and hospitalization, and I don’t want to spend my wedding night in the freaking hospital.

There are another gazillion pictures and congratulations from everyone. We don’t get to eat anything because we’re circulating and talking to people. The moment we almost get back to our table, we’re intercepted by someone. We really are so lucky to have so many incredible people in our lives, but my stomach is having a little trouble agreeing with me on that point. I eat a little bit of cake that doesn’t get smushed into my face and actually makes it into my mouth, but I am starving by the time the reception starts to die down. It takes us almost an hour to say goodbye to everyone and by the time I climb into the Passenger seat of Bram’s car, it’s well past midnight.

We’re staying at a hotel tonight before we go on a road trip for our honeymoon, but Bram doesn’t go to the hotel. He pulls into a Waffle House parking lot. I don’t think I’ve ever loved him more.

Waffle House is almost completely empty, which works out because we get our food incredibly quickly and then we’re back in his car. I can smell the waffles the whole way to our hotel.

Married life is… different. But in a really great way. There’s something so special about being able to call Bram my husband.

For a little over five years, we live in bliss, just the two of us. 

I get home from work one random day in October, and Bram is sitting at our kitchen table. “Hey, you’re home early.”

“Sit down, Si,” he says quietly.

I get closer, and I realize he’s crying. I feel my heart clench. I’m so sure he’s going to tell me that his mom’s breast cancer is back again or that something’s wrong with Caleb or Noah. “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head and passes me a box. I open it, and my heart stops. “These aren’t sad tears, are they?” I ask, my voice sounding small. I pick up the tiny binky. “It took.”

He nods. He smiles, and it seems to light up his whole face. “Kathy’s pregnant. She got confirmation at the clinic today and they called me while I was at work.”

“We’re going to have a baby,” I whisper. A tiny, mushy baby that’s the mix of Bram and the perfect egg donor we spent weeks and weeks picking out. I already love him… or her.

He nods. He stands up and hugs me. He’s shaking in my hold, but I don’t blame him. I can’t wrap my head around this. The clinic had hyped us up so much for the possibility that it wouldn’t work; we never really gave ourselves the chance to think about what would happen if it did work.

“We get to go with her to her eight-week appointment. Hear the heartbeat. See the baby on the ultrasound,” he tells me as he wipes his eyes with a napkin. 

I nod. I don’t think I have a voice anymore. Part of me is in shock and part of me is overwhelmingly happy. I'd thought I understood mind numbing happiness the day we got engaged or the day we got married, but those pale in comparison to this. "You're gonna be a dad," I whisper.

"You're gonna be a dad," he whispers back.

“This is the best freaking early birthday gift ever,” I say. Even though there’s almost a month until my birthday, I’m counting it. He chuckles. "Wait until our parents find out. Your mom is going to freak. She's been asking about grandkids since we got engaged."

Bram bites his lip and looks down at the floor. He almost looks guilty. “I want to wait,” he says quietly. “Until Christmas. She'll be in her second trimester, and then we can tell our families and friends. I want to do it in a cute, cliché way. Something that’s more vomit inducing than when Alice told us.”

I put my hand over my mouth to try to stifle my giggle. Alice had told us she was expecting over three years earlier by making us all t-shirts. Mine and Bram’s said uncle shark. It was pretty cute. Not nearly as cute as my niece, Lena, who stole my heart approximately 3 hours after she was born (that’s when I first held her and it was like holding air; she was the most perfect human being to ever exist). “That’s going to be hard to top.”

“What if we turn it into a competition? Your family loves competition,” he suggests. “Or we can give each of them a piece of it and watch the hilarity unfold as they figure it out.”

“Do you want it to be cute or do you want it to be fun?” I ask.

“I honestly can’t decide right now,” he admits. He grabs my hand and kisses it. “We’ve got more than enough time to figure that out. We’re going to be parents. We’ve waited and saved for six years for this moment. It's really happening.”

"Wait. I have something for you," I remember.

"How is that even possible?" He asks.

"I got it, like, two years ago," I admit. "Stay here."

I run to our bedroom and go into our closet. I hid it in the bag with our graduation gowns because I knew he would never look there.

I never wrapped it or put it in a bag, and I'm suddenly wishing I had. I hand it to him and he slowly unfolds the onesie.

A huge smile spreads across his face. The onesie says, “my dad is judging your grammar.” I’d thought it was beyond perfect for him when I saw it and even though we hadn’t saved enough at the time, I couldn’t resist the urge to buy it. 

He stands up and kisses me. I guess he likes it. 

I'm starting to understand what Alice meant when she said nine months of pregnancy are simultaneously the longest and shortest months. Three months practically fly by. By the time we get off the plane in Atlanta for Christmas, I feel like we got the baby news years ago; at the same time, it feels like an atrociously long time before the baby will be here.

I'm practically buzzing with excitement. It's a really good thing we're staying with Bram's mom until Christmas morning because I'm pretty sure my mom would take one look at me and would realize something's up.

We have all of our baby news gifts and a million Christmas gifts crammed into one of our suitcases. All of our clothes are in another. Bram is a very space efficient packer. I didn’t think we’d fit everything, but he managed.

I cannot wait to tell Bram's mom tonight. She is gonna lose her shit. She literally asked us two days ago when she was gonna have a grandbaby. 

We’re waiting for our rental car for what feels like hours before we can finally leave the airport, and we pull up to Bram's house. Bram’s mom has a home cooked meal on the table for us when we walk in. She really spoils us when we stay with her. We drop our stuff off and join her in the kitchen.

She asks us how our flight was and we make a little bit of small talk. Even I notice that Bram is practically bursting to tell her. Or maybe I'm just really freaking excited to tell another human being as well, so I’m tuned into his excitement. This has figuratively been killing me.

"Are you alright?" She asks.

"We actually have something for you," Bram explains.

"I'll go grab it," I offer. I run to Bram's old bedroom and fish two bags out of our suitcases. It's a really good thing that Bram had the idea of color coding. When I get back, I hand her the red bag without ribbon first. "Okay, Mary. You're gonna open this one then this one."

"Okay," she says. I can hear the excitement in her voice. It's obvious she thinks she knows what's coming. She's almost crying before she opens the bag. "I knew it! Grandma: established 2028. I will wear it proudly. When is she due?"

"First open the other one," I remind her. "Then we will answer any and all questions you have."

It takes visible effort for her to swallow her questions and reach towards the other bag. She pulls out the t-shirt. "Grandma with double the love," she reads. "I don’t … understand…" Her eyes widen comically. She and Bram have very similar surprised faces. "Double the love. Are you having twins?"

Bram nods, and I can't keep the smile off my face. The moment we heard, “and here’s Baby B”… well, the moment that I understood what the doctor meant by that, we knew our reveal was less about announcing a baby and more about revealing the twins.

"You can't tell anyone yet. We have something planned for everyone else before we go back," I explain. I pull out my phone. “We were going to get you a picture frame with the ultrasound pictures, but the frame is on backorder.” I show her the pictures and I think it’s real for her then. “And here’s the video of the heartbeat for Baby A.” I close my eyes and let the fluttery sound wrap around me. I feel the same way I did the first time we heard it. These are our babies. I’m still amazed at how good the video came out. There’s a slight pause and then an identical heartbeat starts thrumming for Baby B.

She takes my phone and watches the video again with wide eyes. "I made a cake for you just to welcome you home." Have I mentioned she's the freaking best? " I'll go grab it and then we can talk more." She walks away with her eyes glued to my phone. I can still faintly hear the heartbeat from the kitchen.

"That went well," I say. “And she made cake. I freaking love your mom.”

Bram chuckles. “She’s pretty great,” he agrees. “I thought she would cry more.”

I bite my lip to keep from laughing. “My mom didn’t really cry until she met Lena,” I point out. It had gotten to the point where Alice kindly asked her if she could stop crying on her baby.

“True,” he agrees.

His mom comes back a minute later with a cake with freaking Oreos on top! I love her so much.

Bram and I are exhausted by the time we collapse in his bed. It’s not very late but travelling and the excitement of sharing our baby news drained us.

Bram's mom has work the next day, so Bram and I end up double-dating with Abby and Leah. It’s weird being ten minutes away from my parents and not seeing them, but Bram has his heart set on telling them on Christmas and telling his mom only fueled my excitement to tell them, so I think I’d be painfully obvious. Leah notices something’s up with me, but Bram passes it off as a work project that I still need to finish (he’s not wrong – my work ethic has really slipped the last few months).

We celebrate Christmas with Bram’s mom on Christmas Eve. She must have done some last-minute Christmas shopping after work because we somehow end up with a ton of baby gifts. She got us a book about what to expect during the first year of our baby’s life, three boxes of diapers, a bunch of onesies, several board books, and so much other stuff that my head is spinning. It kinda dawns on me in that moment that there is a lot we need to do to prepare for our babies. We’ve been so wrapped up in the fact that it worked and we’re going to be bringing home two babies in six months. Aside from picking out our nursery furniture and theme, we really haven’t gotten much else.

As we’re leaving her house on Christmas morning, she brings up the idea of a baby shower. Bram and I look at each other. We hadn’t thought of that. “Can we?” I ask uncertainly. “Like, is that a thing?”

“I don’t see why it can’t be. You are expectant parents, and any other expectant parent would be able to have a baby shower if they wanted one,” she says stubbornly. “You are bringing a life into this world, and I’ll be damned if we don’t get to throw you a party.”

I hold up my hands defensively. “Alright. We’re not gonna say no,” I assure her. “Just let us know when and where.”

She nods. “After you tell your parents, we’ll sit down and figure it out. Get you set up with a registry.”

I look at Bram.  _ A registry _ , I mouth. He gives me a look that clearly says,  _ just roll with it _ . I shrug. “Okay. I’ll have my mom call you later.”

Ten minutes later, we’re pulling up in front of my house. There’s no room in the driveway because Alice and Nora are home, but we don’t mind parking on the street.

Lena must have been waiting at the door. “Siman! Bam!” she shrieks. She hasn’t really mastered the whole aunt or uncle thing, so we’re on a first name basis with her (well, her version of our first names). I’m pretty sure she could say our full names if she really wanted to because she can say much more complicated words, but she’s only two and a half, so I don’t actually know. She runs out and Alice is hot on her heels. I get to her first and pick her up.

“How’s my favorite niece?” I ask. She giggles and it’s like music to my ears. I only see her a handful of times a year, and I feel like she’s grown so much since I last saw her. “Hey.” I give Alice a half-hug, and pass Lena to her when she squirms to get down.

“We’ve been waiting for you to do presents,” Alice says quietly. “Lena has been waiting at the door for you since grandma and grandpa said she had to wait for her uncles.”

Lena nods solemnly, and I can’t keep in my laughter. “Well we’re here now. Me and Uncle Bram got you…”

“Uncle Bram and I,” Bram mutters quietly.

I ignore him. “A really special present,” I finish.

Lena’s face lights up. “Presents,” she says happily.

Alice looks at me. “If you got her something obnoxious,” she warns under her breath. I got her this turtle that transforms into a ball pit last year, and instead of sitting in it, she throws balls all over her playroom. Alice hates it, but it’s Lena’s favorite toy.

“If you don’t want something obnoxious, I’d recommend gift suggestions in the future,” I point out. If I hear her say that Lena doesn’t need anything one more time, I’m going to get the kid a pet or something. Something that Alice can’t just hide on top of her bookshelf.

We hug and greet everyone,

“We’re going to go drop off our stuff and we’ll be down with our gifts,” I tell Alice as I start to ascend the stairs.

“Please hurry,” she says. She puts Lena down.

Bram follows me up. It takes us a minute to figure out the gifts because some of the labels came off in the trip.

“You noticed her shirt, right?” Bram asks as we’re putting the baby gifts in a giant tote bag.

“Whose shirt?” I look at him confused.

“Lena’s.”

“Uh… it was white?” I ask uncertainly. I’m not actually sure.

He chuckles. “It said she’s being upgraded to big sister,” he explains.

I freeze. “Are you freaking kidding me?” I ask.

I grab the stack of Christmas gifts and run down the stairs. “Lena!”

She spins to look at me and sure enough, Bram’s right. My mouth is open as I turn to look at Alice. “You’re…” I start to say.

She puts her fingers to her lips. “Not everyone has figured it out yet,” she says quietly. She looks like she’s glowing and glances at where our parents are sitting on the couch. “I’m still waiting on dad to notice.”

I snort. “Good luck with that one.” The longer I’ve lived away from home, the more I understand where my oblivious nature comes from. 

Bram comes down a minute later and puts the bags in the corner behind him. “She’s waiting for my dad to notice. Then we can make a big deal about this,” I whisper before I pass out the Christmas gifts.

Within fifteen minutes, the living room is an explosion of wrapping paper, and my dad still hasn’t noticed Lena’s shirt. I’m kind of impressed at how well my mom is holding it together, but I bet she already knew.

“Hey, dad,” Alice says when Lena is sitting on his lap and he STILL doesn’t notice. “What do you think of Lena’s shirt?”

My dad looks at it. “Very cute,” he says. He turns back to the book Lena handed him and freezes. In slow motion, he looks back at her shirt. Then he looks back at Alice.

“Finally,” my mom breathes.

There’s a lot of hugging and questions for Alice. She’s actually telling us pretty early. She’s not due until mid-July, but she wanted to tell us in person.

Once things have calmed down and we’ve thrown out all the wrapping paper, I clear my throat. “We actually have some more gifts for you all. I didn’t realize we didn’t pass them out.” My voice cracks and I giggle nervously. Their names are written right on the bags, so I pass out the ones without ribbon first. We’d contemplated doing a scavenger hunt or a puzzle or something like that, but the idea lost fuel pretty quickly. Instead, we got them all roughly the same thing. My mom opens her bag first and I’m watching her reaction. Her shirt says, “world’s best  mom grandma”. Everyone’s shirts say the same thing except they say sister/ aunt or niece/cousin or… I think you get it.

“You’re having a baby,” my mom says quietly. Alice was distracted by Lena but quickly opens her gift and her eyes widen.

“Before you freak out, there’s one more,” Bram says quietly as he starts to pass out the second set of bags.

I giggle at his joke. What is wrong with me today? It’s like all my excitement is coming out of me in random giggles.

I wait as they open their gifts. A shocked silence spreads through the room. It’s only broken by Lena saying, “mommy. This say?” She holds her t-shirt up to Alice.

“Proud big cousin to twins,” Alice whispers.

Lena frowns. “Twins?” she asks.

“It’s when someone is having two babies instead of one,” Alice explains. Her eyes are still on us as if she expects us to tell her we’re joking.

Lena runs over to us. She looks at my stomach. “Don’t see,” she says. She pokes my stomach. “Baby?”

I glance at Bram and crouch down. “We have a friend who’s growing our babies,” I explain. “She has them in her tummy.”

I don’t know if she fully understands, but she smiles and starts spinning while chanting, “baby, baby, baby.”

It’s like a switch flips with the rest of our family. Theo’s offering us advice. Alice is gushing about how our kids are going to be so close in age. I think my dad is just in shock. He did get news about three new grandkids today. We’re all up late (well, except Lena). Alice and Theo have an early flight so they can get back to celebrate Christmas with Theo’s family, so this is the only day we’re together.

The next day, I wake up to about 50 text messages. I have a heart attack until I realize it's just a group message finalizing our plans for Waffle House. It’s the first time all of us are going to be together since last Christmas (Nick couldn’t come home for Thanksgiving this year), so everyone is really excited. 

We’re meeting Nick’s new girlfriend which is something I’ve been looking forward to for months. Nick went through a “living life, loving me phase” (his words) for over four years until, six months ago, he met Penny. He did not appreciate my nickel and penny joke when he told me on the phone. In defense of me, my dad jokes have really stepped up a notch lately. Not in defense of me, he did tell me before we found out we were gonna be dads.

We’re running a little late to Waffle House because I oversleep. I really hope Bram’s right, and I’ll adapt to a new sleep schedule once our babies are here.

Garrett is complaining about Callie when we get there. My heart breaks for Garrett. He was with that girl for three years, she got pregnant, and then decided she wanted nothing to do with Garrett. They got joint custody over their son, but it seems like Callie gets way more time with him than Garrett.

Fortunately, it seems like we’re very distracting because after we get there, he looks considerably more upbeat.

When there’s a lull in conversation after we get our food, I nudge Leah with my foot. “What’s your favorite part of going on vacation?” I ask. “And I mean that sarcastically.”

“Those stupid little tchotchkes or cliché gifts,” she answers without skipping a beat.

“And if you had to be more specific?” I press.

“Those so-and-so went somewhere no one cares about and all I got was this stupid t-shirt shirts.” She’s eyeing me suspiciously.

I pass out the bags to everyone (except Penny, but I don’t think she’s expecting anything). “You are all required to wear this regularly,” I warn.

Everyone opens their bags and it’s a surprisingly lowkey reaction. I guess after our families, I expected screaming or crying or a mix, but it’s mostly just congratulations and Leah saying, “I hate you so much for making me like these fucking shirts.”

Bram’s work friend was able to give us a huge discount on custom made shirts which we fully took advantage of this Christmas. Their shirts read, “My friend is having twins and all I got was this lousy shirt.” We thought getting t-shirts was going to deplete our Christmas gifts budget, but we actually had money left over for real gifts.

We’re at Waffle House for hours. I have to hand it to Nick. I think he found the one. Penny is amazing and she seems to treat Nick right. She’s clearly crazy about him.

We spend two more days at my parents’ house before we leave to celebrate Christmas with Bram’s dad and stepmom. Christmas season is exhausting and honestly, I’ll be happy when Bram and I are back in our own bed.

We did the same gifts for Bram’s dad that we did for his mom. Bram’s dad is excited when he finds out that he’s going to be a grandpa, but nothing compares to Bram’s stepmom. She is positively weepy when she opens her gift. I don’t know if it’s the fact that we’re calling her grandma as well, that it’s twins, or just the knowledge that we’re gonna be parents. Caleb and Noah are so excited to be uncles. Caleb actually puts down his phone for a few minutes to find out more about the babies, which might be one of our greatest accomplishments. 

Five months later, our little girls come into the world eleven minutes apart. It is the most surreal experience of my life, but the moment I hold my daughter… everything changes.

The minutes she’s in this world but isn’t in my arms are the longest minutes of my life. I don’t know if this is usual or because they’re being delivered by C-Section, but when she’s handed to me, she’s much cleaner and is wrapped in a blanket.

She’s impossibly tiny in my arms. She’s just over six pounds, but she feels like she surely must weigh less than one. She has so much hair - it’s dark and curls around the sides of her head. I see so much of Bram in her. Then she opens her eyes, and I’m taken. They’re so grey. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost say she has my eyes. For eleven minutes, she is the most beautiful girl in my life. She only opens her eyes for a couple of seconds before she’s fast asleep again. We’d been warned about that. Alice thought there was something wrong with Lena because she slept so much, but apparently being born is just as exhausting as birthing a child.

A single tear drop slips down my cheek and lands on her. I pass her to Bram. His eyes get wide and I know he’s experiencing the same surreal change I just felt. It’s kind of like I feel like I unlocked a new capacity to love. I didn’t know this was possible. I love Bram with every atom I am capable of, but this is different. I don’t love him any less. I just love more. It’s almost like there was a part of my heart that’s been waiting for our girls.

“Hello, Charley,” he whispers. We both agreed on the names, but we each picked one out. Charley was Bram’s choice after his Grandpa Charlie who passed away when Bram was in middle school. I wish I’d met Grandpa Charlie because Bram clearly loved him a lot.

“Charley, it’s daddy.” His voice quivers when he calls himself a dad. I swear, she knows he’s talking to her. She opens her eyes again when he says her name.

Time stops having any meaning while Bram holds Charley. It feels like an eternity before another baby swaddled just as securely is passed to me. I know she’s not identical, but it’s easy to forget that when I look at her. I start to pick up on small things. Her hair is a little thinner, her ears are a slightly different shape. She’s equally as beautiful. I stand next to Bram. “Charley, this is your sister.”

I lean my head against Bram’s and for a few minutes, we just stand there in bliss.

We wait until a nurse finishes working with Kathy to thank her. “Kathy, thank you. What you’ve done for us… we can never repay it. Do you want to hold one of them?”

Kathy shakes her head. I’m not surprised. Kathy was upfront from the beginning that she didn’t want to get too attached.

It seems like no time passes before we’re moved to recovery. We’re allowed to carry our babies, though we’re offered the little bassinet carts. We’re in the same room as Kathy which I expect to be weird, but it’s not. The surrogacy agency finalized the birth plan with the hospital, so we’re in a room with two beds that can be separated by a curtain. It’s the best of both worlds.

Within a few minutes of sinking into a chair, my mom and dad come in. The C-Section was scheduled, so everyone is here. I don’t know how my mom managed to come in before Bram’s mom. I get my answer a second later when Mary appears holding two cups of coffee. 

Bram passes Charley to my dad and accepts both cups of coffee from his mom. “This is Charley.” My mom is standing by my dad looking down at her in awe.

I stand up and Mary’s arms willingly take the baby. “And who is this?” she coos.

When choosing my name, I wanted to tie in something from our story. I’d played around with Blue or Jackie after our nicknames, but I don’t want to name our daughter after a time in our life when we had to hide. I want her to always know that she can be free and be herself. I want a future for her where she never has to be afraid to be herself.

At the end of the day, I chose one of the most precious gifts Bram ever gave me. I caress the side of her cheek gently. “This is Hope.”


End file.
